Stress & Storm
by AphroditeSmith
Summary: After a hectic summer, something happens at Bill & Fleur's wedding that could change Ginny's future forever...  This IS a DG ship, and the rating is for later chapters.  Canon compatible through HBP.  No flames, but please review.
1. A Gold and Green Wedding

**Disclaimer: The only place I own Harry Potter (or the characters and settings of his magical world) is in my dreams. They all actually belong to J.K. Rowling, as if you didn't know.**

Ginny Weasley had once again shut herself up in her bedroom off the third floor landing of the Burrow. She had been arguing with Fleur as she had done so many times already this summer, and had run upstairs to hide out for a bit, as she didn't want people seeing her cry. For, as much as she knew Fleur would make Bill happy, she couldn't help feeling dislike for the haughtiness and disdain with which Fleur seemed to treat her especially.

Now that Fleur's parents and sister had arrived, Ginny was stuck doing all the extra house-work while her mother kept them all entertained and helped them with the wedding-planning. Not that she would rather be doing that than chores, as Molly Weasley often got to bed late, got up cranky, and seemed perpetually cross these days. But that didn't mean Ginny enjoyed being the one who had to work like a house-elf for nearly no recognition.

Ginny supposed that Fleur's sister Gabrielle wasn't _quite_ so bad, but as they didn't speak the same language, it made getting on with each other much more difficult. And when not in the company of the Delacour parents, Gabrielle could most often be seen fawning over Harry Potter, who had come to stay at the Burrow until after the wedding.

Harry. Where to start? He had basically dumped her the day of Dumbledore's funeral. Why did he always have to be so noble and, well, stupid? She had liked him from the moment she laid eyes on him, and knew deep-down that their fleeting relationship had probably been too good to last. Still, she couldn't help but feel regret and sadness for the things she had never told him, and all the time that may have been wasted before the end of the school term. And thinking about him now just gave her another reason to cry.

She was just beginning to sob silently as she wallowed in thoughts of Harry going off and quitting school (and Ron and Hermione going with him) leaving her at a changed Hogwarts all by herself; when suddenly there was a tapping at the window. She looked up through watery eyes and saw a large snowy owl perched on the flowerbox, standing among what were once flourishing begonias, but which had died mysteriously when some strange liquid of Fred and George's had fallen into them when the twins had taken to experimenting on the roof.

Ginny got off the bed and ran to the window, wiping her eyes on the way.

"Hedwig!" she said, brightening, as she opened the screen.

But a second look told her that this was, in fact, most definitely _not_ Hedwig. The beautiful fowl nudged a large pearly white envelope into her hands and then took off with a soft hoot. Ginny stared for a moment at the front of the iridescent letter addressed to _Mlle. Ginevra M. Weasley_, before tentatively turning it over to find that it had been sealed in silver wax with the Delacour coat of arms. She trembled in anger as she slid a finger under the envelope's fold and broke the seal. Ginny could not believe the nerve Fleur had in sending this to her. _It had just better be an apology_, she thought as she glared at the letter. But before she could do anything else, the envelope leapt from her hands and sang shrilly,

"_My seester soon-to-be,_

_Please leesten carefully_

_To what I say:_

_Our families will unite;_

_New futures shining bright_

_With love's reconciling light_

_On my wedding day_"

All sung quite operatically and to the tune of "God Save the Queen." Ginny barely had time for the disbelief to register before she realized there was more…

"_Hear what I now propose:_

_You are ze one I chose_

_To stand weeth me._

_Now zat our fates are tied_

'_Ow I would fill weeth pride – _

_I'd be ze 'appiest bride_

_If my maid you'll be_"

And with a small flutter and a delicate "poof," the envelope dissolved in a mist of silver dust, leaving a string of pearls magically suspended in front of her at eye level until she reached out and plucked them from the air with a small smile. Ginny didn't know why Fleur had ever bothered to make fun of Celestina Warbeck, as she was not much of a singer or songwriter herself. And she was so aggravating! But also slightly amusing. _A singing Howler?_ And since Ginny was, after all, a kind person, who only wanted to see her brother happy, she would of course accept, and officially become the second bridesmaid for Fleur's wedding.

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The days passed, full of frantic preparations, and tiffs between different family members. But Ginny had at least managed to find some spare moments here and there to spend with Harry, Ron and Hermione. She could tell that they were all putting on a brave face for her and she tried everything in her power to be cheerful every time she was with them, but what remained unspoken was the simple fact that after the wedding was over, Ginny did not know when she would be seeing any of them again.

She had been looking for a way to spend some time with Harry alone before the wedding, but there was so much to do and so little time, that it was nearly impossible. As it was, the one time she was able to catch him after a meal as he volunteered to help her clean away the dishes, they were interrupted so many times, (once by Fred and George trying to get Ron to prove he could finally Apparate accurately by Apparating directly into the kitchen sink) that all they managed was small talk, and Ginny felt that they would never get the chance to really talk about where things had left off at the end of school.

One bright spot amongst all the work and worry was that Ginny's O.W.L.s had come in. She had failed History of Magic and Divination, though she ultimately had earned a total of seven O.W.L.s, including managing three "Outstanding" marks in Charms, Care of Magical Creatures, and Defense Against the Dark Arts, which she knew was better than Harry or Ron. She showed Hermione first, as she was the most academically-minded and the one most likely to genuinely congratulate her, instead of grudgingly giving her a sarcastic "Cheers to _you"_ like Ron, or bragging to any one who would listen, like her mother.

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As the wedding day approached, guests arrived and tempers flared.

The wedding was to take place in the Burrow's back garden, just beyond the orchard. The Weasley's were silently happy that it was customary for the bride's family to take care of expenses, of course, else they would surely have had to go into debt. As it turned out, Fleur's family was rather more affluent than most, and was even friends with some French dignitaries, including the French Minister of Magic, himself. Most of the guests from Fleur's side were staying at Muggle hotels in the town of Ottery St. Catchpole, which was the village nearby. Some were choosing to Floo in or Apparate on the morning of the wedding, and most of the guests coming to see Bill were staying on the Weasley's front lawn in tents they'd brought themselves. Bill's friends were hardy, earthy types, and didn't really seem to mind.

Ginny's entire family had soon arrived, including Percy; her grandfather on her mother's side, Hylas Prewett and his sister (and Ginny's great-aunt), Muriel; Arthur's oldest brother, Martin; and quite an assortment of first and second cousins. And as the morning of the wedding came around, all the Weasley family was scrambling at the last minute to make sure everything was going smoothly. Well, except, perhaps, for Fred and George who were their usual mischief-making selves. But Ginny had been forbidden to join them until after the wedding was over, and her mother had even managed to make her promise not to tell Fred and George about her idea to bewitch the garden gnomes to throw dungbombs at the newlyweds instead of rice or confetti.

At last the big moment arrived. The guests were seated and the wedding party had just finished getting ready inside the house. Ginny and Gabrielle walked down the aisle first, accompanied by two of Bill's closest friends from his Hogwarts days, Donovan Kiteprice and Cassius Zimms. She and Gabrielle were wearing matching dress robes of pale, shimmering gold which were rather lower cut in the front than Ginny was used to, but elegant, and made with layers of light, flowing silk. They both wore a small string of pearls, and had wreaths of baby's breath woven into their hair, and they were each carrying a bouquet of white roses with several tiny glowing fairies dancing amongst the blooms.

They waited silently, expectantly at the front as Bill came down the aisle, walking slowly with the wooden cane he'd been using since he'd been attacked by the werewolf, Fenrir Greyback. It was obvious to Ginny that a few of Bill's friends and most of Fleur's guests had not seen Bill until this moment, and they shifted uncomfortably at the sight of his dragging limp and deeply scarred face. Some of the cuts were still shiny and raw and looked as though they would never properly heal. Madam Pomfrey, as well as the Healers at St. Mungo's, had confirmed that Bill would eventually regain full use of all of his limbs, but the scarring on his face would likely remain, and the barely-concealed revulsion on the faces of some of those in attendance gave Ginny a fair idea of just how much her brother's life had changed since the attack. She lifted her chin defiantly as he came to stop in front of them. He saw her looking at him and gave her a lopsided grin. Ginny smiled back, though it pained her to know that his own smile would never be the same.

She looked out over the guests, and saw her mother positively sobbing in the first row, though she expected nothing less. She saw Harry, Ron, and Hermione sitting two rows behind her mother, in the seats closest to the aisle. Hermione was crying as well. Ginny knew that Hermione secretly always cried at weddings, but Ron was looking decidedly pleased with himself, as this was his and Hermione's first public appearance together as an official couple since they had finally started dating once school let out for the holidays. Ginny suddenly thought, _If they could date each other in the face of the dangerous task of finding and fighting Voldemort, why can't Harry and I_? Ginny sighed. It had all come full circle. She was back to thinking about Harry. But she didn't have time to ruminate any more on the subject as Fleur had begun to glide gracefully down the aisle in pristine white robes embroidered with sparkling stars and moons, her silky sheet of silvery mane coiled half-up in big, immaculate curls under a gleaming tiara that Ginny knew belonged to her own Great-Auntie Muriel. And trailing behind her on the petal-strewn ground was a long, old-fashioned train being carried by low-flying fairies. Overall, Ginny had to admit that Fleur was the most gorgeous bride she had ever seen. Apparently, several of the wizards present thought so too, as they stared and even began to rise from their seats until being restrained by wives, mothers, and girlfriends, as was the case with Ron and Hermione.

The happy couple said their vows, and before Ginny knew it, the ceremony had ended, leaving her to think she should have been paying more attention on her brother's special day. But there was so much to think about and Ginny had to go and get changed to start preparing for the reception right away.

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The reception was held in a big white tent just on the other side of the back garden, closer to the house so people could come and go more easily. By the time the reception had started, half the guests had left. But those who had stayed had come prepared to forget all their problems with a little music, dancing, and elderflower wine.

The first dance, of course, belonged to the bride and her father, and everyone watched enraptured as Fleur and her handsome father swirled around the dance floor. Ginny's mother and Bill stood to one side, as Bill couldn't really dance in his current condition. Soon the party was in full sway, some of the guests becoming rowdier as the night went on, filled with the joviality that too much Firewhiskey brings. Ginny noticed that Fleur had danced a song with the French Minister and that one of the members of his entourage had even asked a blushing Molly Weasley for a dance. Ginny occupied herself for most of the night with serving pumpkin juice, Gillywater and Butterbeer to those attendees who were still underage. But she managed to pass the task to Hermione when Harry came over during a slow song to ask her to dance. She was exhausted, but it had been so long since she'd really been close to Harry that she readily complied.

Harry led her to the center of the dance floor and they settled into a smooth rocking rhythm as they held each other for what Ginny was sure would be the last time. She looked into Harry's emerald eyes and felt her heart break all over again. This was really it. She opened her mouth to say something, but stopped when Harry gave her a look that plainly said "_Don't say anything, let's just enjoy this while it last_." Ginny sighed. She knew he was right, and she didn't really know what she would have said anyway. She leaned in and kissed the corner of his mouth briefly before resting her head on his shoulder as they danced. She wished this moment would never end, and as one large, wet tear seeped from the corner of her eye onto Harry's shoulder, she snapped her head up and looked at him. He had just stiffened and squeezed her. _Tightly_.

But then she heard it too. A disturbance had started at the far end of the tent. For a moment she thought it was some raucous partiers who had gotten a little out of hand. Then her stomach dropped as the crowd parted some to reveal what she immediately recognized as Death Eaters.

"Death Eaters? At the wedding?" Ginny whispered frantically to Harry.

Harry didn't answer. He had gone quite still. 

"But how did they find –"

Ginny was cut off by a silencing look from Harry.

He pulled her by the hand, and they sneaked off the dance floor. It was apparent that not everyone had noticed, as the music was still blaring and some couples were still swaying happily to the beat. Harry dragged her behind a table covered in Bill and Fleur's wedding gifts, where they ducked down quietly so Harry could plan his next move.

"Do you think they're after _you_?" asked Ginny nervously.

"I wouldn't be surprised," said Harry almost too calmly.

"What are you going to –"

But again Ginny was cut off with Harry's quiet "shh."

She realized that the disruption was getting louder as the people started murmuring to each other and stopped dancing, exiting the dance floor as quickly as possible. Harry whipped out his wand, preparing to stand and walk out into the open, when there was a brilliant green flash and several people screamed. The music stopped. Ginny peeked her head around the corner of the table, but couldn't see what was going on since her line of vision was blocked by the dress robes of the crowd that had left the dance floor. Again there was a flash of bright green light and this time, Ginny followed the other spectators' shocked eyes to the ceiling of the tent which now had a smoking hole right in the center. Ginny and Harry stood up together to get a better look, and as they did, one Death Eater turned completely in their direction. The others soon followed suit. Harry raised his wand to fight back, but the Death Eaters just cackled manically and each Apparated away with a loud "pop."

Harry let his wand arm fall to his side. He turned and looked at Ginny quizzically.

"But I thought they'd –"

"I know! I don't know, either!" said Ginny in a whispered exclamation.

Harry walked out into the center of the empty dance floor with Ginny right behind him. She pressed herself as close to his back as she could comfortably get. When they were directly beneath the burnt opening in the top of the tent, Harry flung an arm out to stop her from getting any closer. As they looked out through the rip and into the blackness of the night sky, there, among the silvery stars, was the unmistakable green glow of the Dark Mark. The Death Eaters had killed.


	2. All's Well That Ends Wells

**Disclaimer: The only place I own Harry Potter (or the characters and settings of his magical world) is in my dreams. They all actually belong to J.K. Rowling, as if you didn't know.**

Ginny grabbed Harry's arm as she fell against him in panic. She clung to him as he slowly scanned the area for signs of death and destruction. He didn't have to look long, for at the far end of the tent, where the disturbance had started, the stunned crowd had completely cleared and people were now backing away from a table in the center. There, around the table, four bodies slouched lifelessly. One, it seemed, had been killed in cold blood from behind, as he had an almost happy expression on his face and was still clutching a large chocolate éclair. Ginny's heart pounded wildly as she realized it was the French Minister of Magic.

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As soon as everyone realized what had happened, the tent was immediately cleared and Aurors were called in. All of Fleur's fancy guests were ordered to return home immediately. All, except those who could stand as credible witnesses. It was soon discovered that not a single other person had been hurt in any way. This was clearly a well-planned attack, with the four dead men being the only intended targets. The Death Eaters had gotten what they had come for.

The Aurors worked tirelessly through the night to make sure all the guests returned safely. They questioned as many witnesses as they could find, and then spent the remainder of the night talking to the Weasley and Delacour parents in the seclusion of the Weasley's sitting room, which had powerful silencing charms placed on it by the Aurors, who had then shunted the remaining family members into the kitchen to wait.

As the night stretched on into the wee hours of the morning, Ginny and Harry sat wordlessly around the kitchen table drinking hot cocoa with several members of her distraught family, including the bride and groom. They were trying to discuss where and how the security measures could have failed, what possible reason the Death Eaters could have had to attack _here_, and how they knew the wedding was going on in the first place.

Fleur, who had been sitting, staring noiselessly at her empty mug throughout the entire conversation, suddenly jumped in,

"It eez all my fault. I 'ave put your family een danger! I should 'ave known somezing like zis would 'appen."

They all turned to look at her incredulously.

"You _knew_?" said Harry quietly.

"No, of _course_ I did not know!" said Fleur forcefully, mascara running in watery lines down her porcelain cheeks. "But I could 'ave _guessed_! Ze Death Eaters 'ave a very large following een my country. And zey 'ave been after our country's Minister for so long, eet was only a matter of time before zey found 'im, anyway. But I'm only so sorry eet 'ad to 'appen 'ere! 'E 'as been in hiding for so long, I never zought zey would find 'im 'ere."

They all looked at her in shock.

"Well why did the Minister come here then, if he's supposed to be in hiding?" Harry asked. He seemed to be the only one who was capable of talking at the moment and he was hungry for more information.

"I told you eet was all my fault. You see, 'e was an old family friend. But 'e 'ad not seen me since I was a leetle girl. I personally _invited_ 'im to come. 'E could not refuse!" Fleur cried, hysterical.

Ginny had the sinking suspicion that the fact that so much time had passed was not the only reason he couldn't refuse her request. Fleur was part-Veela after all.

"But why would the Death Eaters want to kill him so badly?" Ginny tried.

"Because 'e 'as long been a supporter of zose of us who are against Lord…" but Fleur couldn't finish saying the name.

"I never realized Voldemort had a following anywhere else" said Harry softly, looking down at a spot of knotted wood in the table.

Fleur looked at him as though he was stupid. "But where do you think 'e went during all zat time 'e went missing after 'e left school? France 'as a fair amount of evil wizards, 'Arry." She looked at him darkly. "Many French wizards – and witches – were among ze first to be called Death Eaters. Where do you think ze spell to conjure ze Dark Mark originated? '_Mors Mordre_._'_ Eet eez French!" she exclaimed bitterly and burst into sobs against Bill's chest.

No one dared to say anything. They all just sat there looking everywhere but at Fleur crying in Bill's arms, never making eye contact with anybody else. Finally, Bill stood with some difficulty and said, "Alright everyone. I think that's enough for tonight. We should all go and try to get some sleep. I'm sure the Aurors will fill us all in after we've had some rest."

Everyone reluctantly agreed and headed to their respective rooms for what was left of the night.

Harry came with Ginny to her room and sat on the edge of the bed with her as she lay down. She looked at him watching her, and could find nothing to say, that is, she could find no way to put what she was feeling into words. But she knew Harry understood. And that's what she loved about him. The way things didn't need to be spoken to be felt. He watched her until she closed her eyes, and then she felt the warmth of his body as he lay down beside her. He tenderly draped an arm over her stomach and held her to him as he buried his face in her neck. This was the closest she'd been to him since school let out. She squeezed her eyes tight as she tried to fight back the tears that would surely come if she thought about how much she would miss him once he went away. She knew, well, she _hoped_ that Harry felt the same way, and the last thing she felt before drifting off into a fitful slumber was that of a single drop of hot moisture falling onto her neck and sliding off into her hair.

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When Ginny awoke the next day, Harry was gone. She was completely alone.

"Merlin…" she sighed and wearily dragged her hands across her face.

She looked dully at the ceiling for a while, taking in the cross of shadows and oddly stretched squares of light cast by the sun streaming in through her window. She hadn't been sleeping well since the night Dumbledore died, but last night had definitely been one of the worst. She lay in bed thinking about everything that had happened, trying to remember every detail to see if there was something she could have missed, some tiny factor that she had overlooked, anything to focus on other than the fact that Harry was most definitely not here. It was well past noon and the house seemed unnaturally still. Ginny didn't want to move at all, so great was her anxiety. She rolled over and tried to occupy herself by tracing the outline of the pink flowers on her bedspread with a lazy finger. But she eventually realized that nothing was going to take her mind off of things. She took a deep breath and hoisted herself out of bed, dismayed as she remembered that she had slept in her clothes. After changing and freshening up a bit, Ginny made her way down to the kitchen to find something small to eat. She was hoping she could find some crackers or dry toast. She didn't think her stomach could handle much more than that at this point.

She met no one on the way downstairs, and when she got to the kitchen, the only other person there was Bill. He was rummaging around for the better pieces of leftover bacon that had been left on a plate on the counter. _He must have missed breakfast, too_, thought Ginny.

"Slept in, too, I see," said Bill kindly, as Ginny took a seat next to him.

"Yeah," she yawned back. "Where is everyone?"

"Out, mostly," Bill stated. "There's a lot of work to be done. I think Dad is still around here somewhere with a couple of Aurors, though. You could probably find him if you tried."

"Where's Harry?" Ginny asked hesitantly, after a moment. "Have you seen him?"

Ginny could tell that her brother had been waiting for her to ask this question. She could also tell by his awkward pause, that the answer was not one she wanted to hear.

"Well…" he began. It was obvious that he was struggling to find the best way to put it. "Harry left this morning for Godric's Hollow with Ron and Hermione. He told us to tell you goodbye from him. He seemed to think it was best not to wake you."

Ginny's eyes widened in unpleasant surprise, but she said nothing. He had really done it. He'd left without her. And he hadn't even said goodbye. Ginny's pulse pounded in her ears and she felt lightheaded. She tried to rationalize that Harry was just protecting her, but any way she looked at it, she felt _abandoned_.

Bill sensed her distress, and moved clumsily toward her to envelop her in a hug. Ginny hugged him back with all she had in her. This was her brother. Her oldest brother. She had still been a young child when he left school, and they had very rarely shared moments of closeness. But now she was overwhelmed at the rush of love she felt for him, as he held her comfortably in his strong arms. She was so stunned she couldn't even bring herself to cry. In another time, Ginny would have pulled away after a while to look into her brother's face and silently thank him for consoling her. But as much as she would always love him, even she found it hard to look at the tangled network of slashes that Bill's face had become. She knew if she were to look at him, he would see it in her eyes, and she couldn't bear to hurt him that way. So she just held on, glad that she had another human there, to let her know she was still real.

As they finally came apart, Fleur entered the kitchen with a swish of her flowing lavender robes, and came to sit across from Ginny and Bill. Her face was drawn and her lips slightly pursed. She appeared to have gotten no sleep whatsoever. Indeed, she looked worse than Ginny had ever seen her. She remembered how Fleur had shown such scorn when Tonks had let herself go for a while, and almost began to think that this could be a humbling experience for Fleur. But as soon as she thought it, Ginny realized that she would never wish that feeling of despair on anyone, and immediately felt a wave of guilt pour over her.

Fleur sat and said nothing, But Bill was looking at her, and they seemed to be talking knowingly with their eyes.

Ginny looked again at Bill. She forced herself to look at her brother's eyes only, avoiding the rest of his features. The light she had seen in them the day before had greatly diminished. What a horrible thing to have happen on the most important day of his life. She knew he and Fleur had cancelled their honeymoon to St. Tropez in the wake of the wedding disaster, and she promptly felt selfish for thinking so much about Harry, when they were no longer even dating. Suddenly she didn't feel so hungry anymore. Her head ringing with the unfairness of it all, she excused herself without eating and went back to her room.

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Ginny had spent most of the day secluded by herself in her bedroom, waiting for the others to get home. Eventually, she decided to wait downstairs in the sitting room. She figured that if she was in a public area, she would be less likely to mope and feel sorry for herself. And it nearly worked.

Ginny was on the couch with her legs draped over one arm, staring absentmindedly at her mother's clock. The hands accompanying each family member pointed directly to the space where the twelve would be on ordinary clocks, but which here said, "Mortal Peril." It had been this way for a year now. She wondered if things would ever return to a state of normalcy.

Just then, her mother could be heard Flooing in from the fireplace in the next room. Molly Weasley briskly entered the sitting room, brushing off her faded dark-blue robes as she came. She seemed startled to see Ginny there, and slowed her pace suspiciously as she walked over to sit in the old armchair across from Ginny. They looked at each other for some time without speaking. Ginny regarded her mother nonchalantly before saying,

"So where were you?"

Her mother looked uneasy for a split second, but then recovered and said, "Oh, just out. I needed to get away from the house. Clear my head, you know."

But Ginny didn't believe her mother's charade for a second. She had definitely not inherited her superior acting skills from the Prewett side of the family. Her mother was avoiding her. She decided to try a different tack.

"Mum. I _know_ it has got something to do with the Order. Don't pretend like it hasn't," Ginny said with a bold attempt at exasperation. "Just tell me now. I think I earned the right to know by being there when it all happened."

Her mother looked at her for a moment, almost pleading with her eyes not to make her say anything. It was in this instant that Ginny seemed to realize how much her mother was actually beginning to show her age. She looked tired. Ginny didn't like it.

"Please, mum. I think it's important," she said quietly after a moment of silence.

"Ginny, I can't, dear. I simply _can't_," was her mother's strained reply.

Ginny didn't bother getting angry. She could tell it hurt her mother not to be able to speak freely about whatever it was. Her mother would tell her if she could, especially if it would save her the pain of being in the dark about this, when Ginny was now the only member of the Weasley family staying at the Burrow who wasn't an official member of the Order of the Phoenix. But Ginny had made up her mind to learn what was really going on. She was determined find out some other way, then, and she thought her mother knew that too.

"It's ok, mum. You don't have to tell me," Ginny sighed halfheartedly and left the room. But she paused without a sound as she was just out of sight of her mother, and could hear her taking deep gulping breaths as though she were trying not to cry. Ginny _would_ discover what was going on. She just didn't realize that it would happen so soon, or that she would find out much more than she'd bargained for.

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It was later in the evening, and Ginny was sitting on the edge of her bed trying to take interest in an old _Witch Weekly_ article about how to use doxy eggs in a potion to help clear up bad acne. She had read the same line five times without really comprehending what it said. Her mind was just on other things. She was starting to drift off when she heard a soft knock on the door. A muffled voice from the other side said,

"Gin? May I come in?"

It was her father. She got up and opened the door without answering. Arthur Weasley appeared absolutely drained.

"What's up?" she asked listlessly as she returned inattentively to her position on the edge of the bed.

Her father stepped self-consciously into the room and stood looking around for a place to sit. There wasn't any. The only other chair in the room was covered in the clean laundry that Ginny had yet to put away.

"Er…" her father started.

Ginny realized what was the matter and got up, shoving the clothes off the chair and into the laundry basket on the floor by her desk.

She once again resumed her position on the bed, and was surprised when her father sat down next to her. She was about to ask (a bit crossly) why he wasn't sitting in the chair she had just bothered to clear for him, when she realized that the door was still open and someone else was standing in the doorway. Ginny looked uneasily at her father, who looked reassuringly back at her and then motioned for the man to come in. He did so, and as he stepped out of the shadows of the dark hallway, she saw that he was wearing Auror's robes, and the badge on his chest showed that he was of a very high rank. He was a tall and imposing figure of a man. He wasn't as scarred as Mad-Eye Moody, but he had a wild look in his eyes that spoke volumes about the tragedies he must have seen and endured. The man stood in the middle of the room, making sure he had Ginny's permission before sitting at her desk chair.

"Er…" said her father again. "This is Solomon Crowbeam. He's an Auror who also works for the International Magical Office of Law."

Ginny recognized that it was a subdivision of the Department of International Magical Cooperation – the Ministry department for which her brother Percy had previously worked. She could only imagine what he would want to talk to _her_ about.

"He has – that is, _we_ have something we'd like to discuss with you," her father continued.

"What is it?" asked Ginny warily.

"Well, Miss Weasley," said Solomon Crowbeam, speaking for the first time. Ginny noticed that his voice was not as gravelly or gruff as she'd been expecting, but strangely smooth and intoxicating. She supposed this would be a useful characteristic in his line of work – especially if you were trying to persuade someone to do something. Her surprise at his voice did not go unnoticed, and he continued, "We'd like to know exactly what you remember of the events that took place last night. Other witnesses led us to believe that you were one of the first to realize there was danger. We'd like to know what you saw, what you heard. Also, we understand that you are close to The Chosen One, Harry Potter, and were wondering if you knew of his current whereabouts."

Ginny fought to keep from smirking. _The Chosen One? These people never stop, do they?_ she thought. And they didn't know where Harry was? They could have just asked Bill, after all, that was how _she_ found out. But Ginny took the fact that Harry had not been friendly with the current ministry as a sign that she should in no way surrender the knowledge of his location.

But Ginny didn't have a problem recounting everything she could remember of the night before. She would do anything if it would help catch the Death Eaters who had not only killed government officials, but had ruined her brother's wedding. She noticed that Crowbeam had been recording everything she said in a little notepad, his black feather quill scribbling furiously as he compared her notes with those of other witnesses. He made little noises of affirmation in his throat, nodding from time to time, stopping only to ask questions or clarify the meaning of what she'd said. Before long, she'd finished telling him everything she could remember, down to the last detail.

He paused in his writing. He seemed to be expecting her to continue. But she had nothing else to say.

"Miss Weasley?" he asked.

Ginny looked up at him, wondering what else he could want.

"Yes?" she said, puzzled.

"Harry Potter" Crowbeam said plainly. "Do you know where he's gone?"

Ginny had forgotten that he'd wanted to know. But she had resolved not to tell him unless she heard it from Harry himself.

"I'm afraid I can't tell you," Ginny stated. Crowbeam looked highly affronted, but she continued, "As I don't even know myself."

This seemed to appease him, as he did not press her further. She was lying through her teeth, but the Auror did not seem to notice. He made a note of something on his pad, and looked at Arthur impatiently. Ginny's father cleared his throat a few times before turning to her.

"Gin, there's one more thing," he said almost inaudibly.

"What?" she plied as he paused.

"It's a…a favour of sorts. Quite a large undertaking actually. But everyone feels you're the only one right for the job," said her father. He seemed to be having a hard time saying this to her.

"Like what…?" Ginny inquired, becoming irritated.

"Well," her father said hoarsely, "Crowbeam, here, has a fair few connections with the higher-ups at the Ministry, and not just in Britain. He's pulled some strings and managed to procure…"

Ginny watched as her father looked over to Crowbeam, who reached into his robes and pulled out a thick, flat parcel wrapped in brown paper. He handed it to Arthur, who took it and held it out to Ginny.

"…this," he finished at last.

Ginny stared down at the package and then up into her father's face. She moved her eyes over to Crowbeam, who was watching her intently, then back down at the package.

"But, what's it for?" she asked.

"Just open it," Arthur said weakly.

Ginny gave her father and the Auror one last quizzical glance before turning to the thick brown envelope and lifting the top flap. She reached inside the packet and pulled out the first sheet of parchment. She gazed down and read,

"Imogene Wells?"

Ginny was looking down incredulously at the crisp certificate of birth she was now holding. The dark black ink stood out against the stark pallor of the parchment.

"What is this?" Ginny questioned. "Is it a missing person? Someone you need to find?"

Her father smiled feebly at her, and then exchanged an unreadable look with the Auror.

"No, Ginny," he finally said reluctantly. "It's you."

"But – what?" said Ginny, confused, staring back down at the certificate. "What do you mean?"

Her father took a deep breath and sighed it out slowly, looking up at the ceiling.

"It's not you, _yet_, Gin," he said, trying to sound brave. "But it _will_ be."

Ginny was totally lost.

"But that doesn't make any sense," she said, as her pulse quickened. "I don't understand…"

She looked from her father to the Auror and back again, her eyes resting on her father's worn out face. But he offered no clarification.

"We'd been meaning to tell you later when we would have had more time to explain. But after what happened at the wedding…" said Crowbeam, when Arthur seemed unable to answer.

"What are you saying?" Ginny interjected before he could finish.

"Gin," said her father meekly, and tried to explain. "The members of the Order all know you would do anything to help our cause. But returning to Hogwarts is simply not an option for you, now that Harry, Ron, and Hermione have left. You may not have known it, but by being friends with them, you were under heavy protection at all times. Both by Dumbledore and Harry. Harry probably didn't even know it, but he would have done anything for you, not to mention that Ron would, too. And with Dumbledore gone forever, and Harry not returning to school, Hogwarts could be a very dangerous place for you."

Ginny could think of nothing substantial to say.

"So –" she managed numbly.

"You see," her father started again. "Not only will you not have the protection you once had at Hogwarts, but by being in Harry's inner circle, you may have become a target yourself. Vold – I mean, _You-Know-Who's_ followers could try and use you to get to Harry, if given the chance. And the way things are now, even at Hogwarts, you'd be much more vulnerable and open to attack. You're far too valuable to You-Know-Who to be safe there for long."

"So what am I supposed to do?" cried Ginny anxiously, not fully grasping his meaning, yet taking a deep steadying breath as she tried to keep her world from crashing down around her shoulders.

"I'm afraid you will not be able to attend Hogwarts this year, Miss Weasley," Crowbeam explained assertively.

"But where am I supposed to go?" Ginny asked, alarmed.

Arthur and Crowbeam exchanged another incomprehensible look.

"Read the next paper, Gin," her father said softly. He averted his eyes, as this seemed to upset him very much. 

She reached a trembling hand towards the packet and pulled out a blood-red envelope. This was addressed to _Miss Imogene M. Wells_. Ginny was completely perplexed as she opened the letter, which had been sealed with black wax so thick and dark, that she could barely make out that it had been stamped with an unfamiliar coat-of-arms or other symbol. She timidly took out the pale, folded parchment and stared down in disbelief at a very official-looking letter that began, "_Dear Miss Wells, Congratulations on your acceptance to the Durmstrang Institute_…"


	3. A Different School of Thought

**Disclaimer: The only place I own Harry Potter (or the characters and settings of his magical world) is in my dreams. They all actually belong to J.K. Rowling, as if you didn't know.**

Ginny panicked, trying to let everything sink in. But it was too much to fathom all at once. She was in shock and was having trouble focusing. Did this mean what she thought it meant? Ginny read the letter over again several times before slowly whispering, "What are you playing at?"

Her father sighed soundlessly. He gave Solomon Crowbeam a silent look that seemed to say "_you take it from here_."

Crowbeam looked shrewdly into Ginny's face and began to explain.

"Miss Weasley, I can understand how hard this might be for you to accept, especially after the tragedies which have so recently occurred," Crowbeam said plainly. "But let me first stress how important it is that you consider your current situation before refusing this offer, which could indeed save your life."

Ginny just stared. Crowbeam took this as an indication to continue.

"You now have some idea of the great danger you would face if you returned to Hogwarts for the upcoming school year. We have found a way out of this predicament for you, though I cannot deny that it would involve some serious sacrifices on your part. You see," Crowbeam stated not unpleasantly, "a position has opened up at the Durmstrang Institute. A position which I highly suggest you take. Unfortunately, there is a long waiting list to get in, and if you do not decide quickly, the open spot may go to another."

Ginny forced herself to overcome her incredulity and finally answer.

"How – How long will I have to decide?" Ginny queried.

Arthur looked definitely distressed.

"One day," her father managed to choke out.

"_One day?!_" Ginny gasped. How could she make such a huge, life-altering decision in just one day?

"You have until the end of the working day tomorrow evening, Miss Weasley," Crowbeam said. "I must know for sure by then."

"But – But that's less than twenty-four hours away!" Ginny exclaimed frantically.

"I'm terribly sorry, Miss Weasley, but that's all the time we can afford to give you. Be assured that if we had more allotted time ourselves, we would surely grant you any additional time needed for you to come to a decision at your leisure, and we would do so without hesitation. But the fact of the matter is that this business is of the utmost urgency, and cannot be delayed any longer," Crowbeam said, rising to his feet. For a moment, Ginny thought he was standing in an effort to intimidate her, but her fears were assuaged as he continued, "I'll leave you and your father alone now to discuss your position in privacy. Should you decide to undertake this assignment, have your father send word to me by tomorrow at noon, and I shall then come and help you to make the proper arrangements. But let me warn you that if you choose not to accept this charge, it will not only be your own life you'll be endangering."

He looked stern and unyielding as he said these words, and began to leave. When he reached the door, he turned, one deceptively placid hand resting on the wobbly old doorknob.

"I know I have given you much to think about, Miss Weasley," he said calmly in his smoothest voice, "but even if you should decide against assisting us in this matter, I must ask you, please, never to mention or discuss what has been asked of you with anyone other than your mother, father, or myself. This is of supreme importance."

Crowbeam's bright eyes seemed to bore into her. She hesitantly nodded in agreement.

"Thank you for your time," he said finally, with the briefest hint of what Ginny took to be an encouraging sort of smile. "Good night," he then said amiably as he turned and strode majestically out of her bedroom, closing the door firmly on the way out.

Ginny sat motionless for a moment, before finally turning her head away from the door to face her father. He was looking at her anxiously.

She expected him to hug her or say something soothing to help her recover from the shock of what she'd just been told. But Ginny was given no time for recovery.

"Do you understand what's being asked of you, Gin?" Arthur asked gently, but resolutely.

"I think so," she managed to mutter.

"I know this is hard for you, Gin," her father began, "but everyone agrees it's for the best."

Ginny knew her father would never wittingly put her in danger, and she knew he was only doing what he believed was in her best interest, but she couldn't help the worrisome sinking feeling she got every time she tried to fully wrap her mind around her current circumstances. It was almost too much to comprehend.

"_Durmstrang_," Ginny whispered with a hint of disapproval. "Dad, what am I supposed to do?"

Arthur looked at his daughter. His youngest. His only girl.

"Well," he said slowly, methodically. "You'll be in a certain amount of danger no matter where you choose to go. But to be quite honest, I think Durmstrang _is_ the safer option."

Ginny nearly blanched. _He couldn't be serious, could he?_ she thought. Her mind reeled at the idea.

At Ginny's shock her father persevered.

"Ginny, I know it's all rather upsetting. But Crowbeam really has thought of everything. At Durmstrang, you'll have the protection of an assumed identity, personal Ministry and Auror communication, and no one else will know where you are, except your own family."

"But, Dad –"

"No, Ginny, let me finish. Your mother and I have been so worried for you, and Crowbeam guarantees us that his plan is foolproof." Noticing her look of skepticism, he continued, "I had my doubts, too, when I first heard the idea. But it is so well thought out, and there is little room for error. You have to understand. You wouldn't have such security at Hogwarts. And if you don't go back there in the fall, no one would suspect anything, because so many other students have been taken out of school already that it's a wonder Hogwarts is even staying open at all. No one would think anything of it if we pulled you out now, especially since you're our youngest, and would be the only Weasley left attending any school this year."

Ginny was about to argue again, but stopped herself. For one thing, she knew that arguing would do no good to persuade her father one way or the other. For another, she admittedly _was_ more than a little curious about what the rest of the assignment entailed. It sounded terribly exciting and ambitious. And she had already confessed to herself earlier that Hogwarts just wouldn't be the same.

Her father watched her struggle within herself, a composed half-smile on his lips. She seemed to be coming to some decision.

"Well," Ginny surrendered, "What _exactly_ would I have to do?"

Ginny had decided to at least learn what was required of her before shutting down the idea completely. If there really were more benefits than faults to Crowbeam's plan, she certainly wouldn't be one to quarrel herself into a corner, especially in a situation where her own safety was concerned.

Arthur looked pleasantly surprised.

"Well, Gin, you would attend Durmstrang like any other normal student who has attended there. You might have to retake some classes where the curriculum there differs from Hogwarts, but you'd be in the same year."

Ginny thought that sounded reasonable enough. Her father continued,

"As to the rumours of Dark Arts being taught there, Crowbeam assures me that they simply have a different approach to teaching defensive magic. Students are not required to learn dark magic, but merely learn _of_ it in a way that better prepares them to use defense against it if the situation ever arises. You'd be learning what you're up against, and I can find nothing wrong with that," her father supplied. "I know you were told of Harry's private Occlumency lessons, and I am led to believe it is something like that. In any case, it would hardly be anything more shocking than what you yourself experienced in Mad-Eye's class in your third year."

Ginny felt that her father seemed to be overlooking the fact that Moody had really been an escaped Death Eater in disguise at the time. But her own curiosity kept her from voicing this reflection out loud.

"Are you with me so far?" her father asked, making sure she was still paying close attention.

"Yeah," Ginny allowed herself to say. "But – So there's a _waiting list_? How does that work?

"Well, you see, Durmstrang isn't like Hogwarts, where wizarding babies' names go down for the school from birth," Arthur explained. "Durmstrang's students have to apply, and are allowed in based on certain…qualifications. Many students who attend there, I'm told, are actually from wizarding families in Britain whose parents simply chose not to send them to Hogwarts."

Ginny took in what her father said. Why would anyone not want to attend Hogwarts? _Probably because they're all Death Eaters_ she answered herself. And what did her father mean by qualifications?

"Umm…qualifications?" she asked. "What sort of qualifications?"

She was wondering if she even possessed those qualities which would allow her to be accepted.

Her father looked at her uncomfortably.

"The biggest requirement is that the student must be a pure-blood," Arthur said. "I know it's a bit of a medieval prejudice, but that's just the way it is. Muggleborns and half-bloods are simply not admitted."

He sighed.

"As a matter of fact, I believe the Ministry would have approached Hermione with a similar offer last year, had it not been widely known that her parents were Muggles. She's extremely talented, as you well know. And also, she already had some connections to students at Durmstrang with whom she had become acquainted through dating Viktor Krum. But there just was not any way to get around the fact that Muggleborns _cannot_ attend there. I have to admit I'm rather glad Hermione couldn't have gone, though, because she proved an invaluable resource to Harry over the past year, and I really can't imagine what Hogwarts would have done without her. And there was never a guarantee that she would have accepted the offer anyway."

Ginny mulled this over for a moment before asking,

"So how did a spot open up, then? Did a student just drop dead or something?"

She had meant it to be funny, but the look on her father's face was very serious indeed.

"Actually, yes," her father said with controlled calmness, "A girl in your year named Caralinda Spurlin was tortured and killed along with her entire family."

Ginny was properly humbled and felt a wave of guilt hit her squarely in the chest. That had not been the answer she'd expected.

"Her parents had been Death Eaters, and as they got word that a second Rising was imminent, they tried to back out, but You-Know-Who killed them before they could resist."

Ginny was stunned.

"So – So I'm just supposed to take that girl's place?" she asked meekly. "It's as simple as that?"

"Yes, though it isn't _quite_ so simple," her father said. "You'll be required to take on the name Imogene Wells, of course, so you won't be traced back to us, or any other members of the Order. Crowbeam picked the name himself from a selected list of possibilities, because "Wells" is a pure-blood surname that has had previous association with Durmstrang, though not for many years, and it would not be questioned if you were admitted. And "Imogene," because he felt it would be easier for you to maintain a sense of ease and casualty, if you were still allowed to be called Ginny, which could also be a shortened name for Imogene, as well as Ginevra."

Crowbeam, it would seem, had indeed thought of everything. Ginny supposed she could feel comfortable enough with being called Imogene Wells formally, as long as she was called by her own nickname on a regular basis.

She kept thinking hard. There had to be more to this.

"Why Durmstrang?" she asked, trying to find a logical way out. "Why not send me to Beauxbatons, or another wizarding school?"

"Because, Gin, they speak French at Beauxbatons, which I think would seriously hinder your learning, for one thing," her father stated.

"And they speak English at Durmstrang?" Ginny inquired with a raised brow.

"Yes, they do," Arthur said to his daughter's surprise. "Durmstrang was founded by a British wizard who just didn't happen to agree with the way things were being run at Hogwarts. So all teachers and students, subsequently, speak English, no matter where they are originally from. That's also one of the requirements for attending there."

"Oh," Ginny mumbled to herself. And then she was struck with another question,

"But isn't Durmstrang terribly out of the way compared to other wizarding schools?"

Her father almost smirked at her increasingly feeble attempts to weasel out of things.

"Yes," he replied, stating the obvious, "But do you really think that distance is even an issue when you can travel by magic? Besides, Gin, Durmstrang is where you're _needed_" he added a little less comfortably.

"What do you mean '_where I'm needed_'?" Ginny asked apprehensively.

"Er…Crowbeam _did_ mention that certain sacrifices would have to be made," her father said weakly.

Ginny immediately stiffened. She'd forgotten that part.

"What sacrifices?" she asked commandingly.

"Well, Gin, a sort of exchange will take place if you agree to all of this," her father said in an awkward manner.

"Exchange?" asked Ginny, growing steadily more wary.

"Well, it's more of a contract than an exchange, really…"

"Contract?!" Ginny exclaimed loudly. "I'm not signing anything!"

"Well, yes," said her father in exasperation. "And I purposefully didn't bring it up right away because I knew you'd react this way! Yes, a contract! Now let me explain!" he said before her temper could build.

"All you will be asked to do, aside from attending regular classes and behaving like a normal student, is to keep your eyes and ears open to any whisperings of You-Know-Who, his whereabouts, and his followers. Particularly because children of known Death Eaters _do_ go there. Also, be on the look out for any information you may hear about members of the Order of the Phoenix. We don't want Death Eaters knowing – or correctly guessing – what our plans are."

Ginny halted, as everything became clear.

"So you're asking me to _spy_?" she said in distaste.

Her father was silent for a moment. And then came his curt reply,

"Yes."

Ginny thought furiously before deciding on her next move. She needed to weigh her options carefully. If she went to Durmstrang she would be among Death Eaters. But honestly, she had been among them at Hogwarts already, hadn't she? That couldn't be as bad as she had first thought. Suddenly an idea came to her. She was not old enough to be inducted into the Order, but she had to be privy to more Order information if she was going to spy for them, right? Perhaps she could use this to her advantage after all.

"So if I sign this contract, all I'm agreeing to is listening and watching for things that will naturally come up? I won't be required to pry information out of anybody?" she finally asked.

"Correct. You'll go about your scholarly business and only report back what you happen to hear or see, if anything."

"And in return, I'll be getting…?"

"Anonymity. Full Ministry protection. And, dare I say, a more diverse learning experience…"

Ginny thought hard. She was at war with herself over this one. She knew that if she answered one way or another, it would be her final word on the subject. She just wanted to make the right choice. A contract would seal the deal, though. If she signed, there could be no backing out. Spying in exchange for protection. Was it worth it?

Ginny looked her father in the eye, and with a confidence she didn't even know she had possessed, she firmly said,

"I'll do it."

X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X

Ginny's father had looked completely shocked when he heard her agree to the Ministry's dangerous proposal. She knew her father had always considered her somewhat brave, but then again, this _was_ a very risky assignment. She could tell that he almost hadn't believed her when she said she'd do it.

Now she could hardly sleep for worrying if she'd made the right choice. The moment she'd agreed, Arthur had gone to tell Molly and send a message to Solomon Crowbeam letting him know that she would be ready when he arrived at noon to arrange everything. Ginny was unbelievably nervous. She tossed and turned but invariably remained wide awake.

She wondered where Harry was. Were he and Ron and Hermione all safe? What was he doing now? Was he feeling the same way? Did Harry always feel like this when he knew he would have to face something dangerous? Ginny figured he had probably felt that way more than anyone else she'd ever known, and she wished desperately that she could talk to him about it.

Harry was not in the Order of the Phoenix. He was now of age, but he had his own agenda, of which she knew very little, other than that it involved finding a way to destroy Voldemort. Ron hadn't joined up, because Harry hadn't. And she suspected the same was true of Hermione. Yet they had faced so many perils. Ginny, herself, had faced a handful of terrifying things in her life, but they probably looked like nothing when compared to Harry's mountain of accomplishments.

Ginny got out of bed and started pacing in the pastel bluish glow that lit her room. Her eyes had adjusted to the dark, and she could see everything in the moonlight that came in from her window. Her mind just would not rest. She would get no sleep at all if she couldn't stop herself from _thinking_ so much.

She sighed. Walking over to her mirror, she stared at her ghostly reflection. She studied her pale features. The smooth freckled skin. The wisps of messy reddish-gold hair that circled her head sleepily in floating strands. The bright brown eyes, full lips, and slender furrowed brows. Was this the face of someone who could pull off something so big?

Ginny knew she was capable of small-scale deception. She had told enough white lies to know that. But this was something so large, it was bigger than she could ever have dreamed. She only hoped she could manage with at least some small degree of success.

She sighed again and meandered lazily back to her bed, where she sat uncomfortably on the edge, on top of the rumpled sheets. She picked up a pillow from the floor, where she had thrown it in frustration, and held it to her chest as she contemplated everything. She owed nothing to anyone, but she suddenly felt like she had something to prove – if only to herself. Harry wasn't in the Order either, but if he could do such great things, then she could at least _try_, right?

Ginny took a breath and tried to steady her conscience. She would do everything she could, if it would help win the war against Voldemort. She only hoped she wouldn't die in the attempt.

X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X

Ginny did not have to struggle to keep awake as noon approached the next day, though she had gotten very little sleep. She was too nervous, filled with uneasy excitement.

She had only seen her mother once that morning, and Molly Weasley had been crying at the time. Ginny knew that her mother had been crying the entire morning, not just when she'd seen her, because she had heard it from her bedroom. She had also heard it from the kitchen as she solemnly ate breakfast, from the bathroom as she brushed her teeth, and she heard it now from the back porch, where she was sitting while she waited for Solomon Crowbeam to arrive.

At twelve o'clock exactly, Ginny heard a commotion from inside, signaling that Crowbeam had come. She didn't wait to be called in, so she stood, dusting off the back seat of her pants before walking briskly into the house.

Solomon Crowbeam. Ginny still did not know what to make of him. He was so smooth, his voice so silky. His eyes were unreadable, glossy and dark. He maintained a penetrating glare, while sleekly talking his way into or out of things. His manner was prickly and formal, yet he managed to be so persuasive and compelling. He was a definite mystery and Ginny had not yet passed final judgment on his character. She would wait till she had more information.

Right now, she needed information on the mission that was looming so ominously before her.

She had read and re-read her acceptance letter so many times, she practically knew it by heart. And every time she read, "_Dear Miss Wells_," she became more and more inclined to believe that she could indeed respond to that name as though it were her own. It was rather frightening.

As Ginny entered the kitchen, conversation stopped and everyone turned to look at her. She walked forward and sat confidently at the kitchen table, in between her mother and Bill. She was seated directly across from Fleur, with Crowbeam and her father standing near the sink. Once Ginny had seated herself, Bill gestured to Fleur that they should leave, and he got up, offering her his arm on the way out. When they had both gone, Crowbeam went to the door and muttered a Silencing charm before returning to the table. It wasn't necessary here because Ginny knew that Bill was trustworthy, but she assumed it could just be out of habit.

When Crowbeam seemed sure that nobody could listen in, he began by expressing to Ginny and her parents that he was glad they had made the right decision. Ginny wanted nothing more than to roll her eyes, but stopped herself out of politeness.

Then Crowbeam began to explain the basics of what she would need to know before attending Durmstrang. Most of what he said had been in the packet she had received the night before.

"Durmstrang is not half so big as Hogwarts," he expounded. "The castle is much smaller. Only four floors and not so many unused rooms. But the grounds are quite extensive, with many lakes and mountains in the surrounding area."

Molly and Arthur were nodding agreeably at this.

"The castle itself," Crowbeam continued, "is built into the rock in the side of a mountain, making it a dependable stronghold in times of hostilities. Indeed it has been used as a wizarding refuge many times in its long history."

Ginny was wondering whether it was so strong to keep bad things out, or to keep them in. It certainly was something to think about.

"If you'll pull out your map, Miss Weasley," Crowbeam invited, "I can show you Durmstrang's approximate location. As it is Unplottable, I will be unable to show you exactly."

Ginny pulled a piece of thick, folded parchment from her packet, and unfurled it across the kitchen table. It was a large cartograph of the Northern Hemisphere, showing Europe, and most of Northern Asia.

"You are here," Crowbeam acknowledged as he pointed his wand at a place on the map Ginny knew to be Britain. And as he did so, a red glimmer of light circled itself around Devon, where the Burrow was located.

"Durmstrang is located _here_," he said genially, moving his wand nearly all the way across the map to touch down somewhere in Russia, "in the North, in the far reaches of Siberia."

Ginny watched as another beam of red light circled itself around a section of mountain range in an area that was labeled the _Boreal Evergreen Forest_. Ginny suddenly realized she felt truly sorry for any owls Hermione had commandeered to send letters to Krum: it was a _long_ way away.

Ginny looked gloomily at the map, inwardly bemoaning the distance between school and home. She looked up at Crowbeam.

"How would I get there?" she asked bluntly.

"Ah, yes. All Durmstrang students arrive by Portkey the weekend before the first day of school," Crowbeam said.

"And where is this Portkey? When will I get it?"

"You already have it, Miss Weasley," Crowbeam said, seemingly amused at her quizzical expression. "It arrived with your letter of acceptance."

Ginny couldn't remember seeing anything of the sort. What if it had fallen out when she wasn't paying attention? What if she'd lost it? Ginny knew she would be in big trouble.

"But I never saw a Portkey, and I read my letter several times," Ginny ventured.

"But don't you see," Crowbeam said in near delight, "Your acceptance letter _is_ the Portkey! It's rather ingenious, don't you think?"

Ginny supposed it was, though she felt rather foolish since she hadn't thought of that herself.

"You will arrive at school on Friday afternoon, and classes will begin the following Monday," Crowbeam said. "That way, you'll have a little time to adjust before settling in to the school routine."

"Tomorrow you will go to the village of Sangerville Crossing to purchase some of your school things. I can accompany if you like, or you are free to go on your own," Crowbeam stated. "Your parents will not be able to take you. They cannot be seen with you in public outside of the country. It would raise suspicion."

Ginny gulped.

"Don't worry, Miss Weasley. Some of your things may be purchased by your parents in Diagon Alley. Certain books and potions ingredients and the like. But others, most especially your school clothes, must be purchased in Sangerville Crossing."

Ginny looked down. Why hadn't she thought of this before? She would have to buy everything new. New books, new robes. How would she ever manage to afford it?

Crowbeam seemed to know what she was thinking.

"Oh, and just so you know, your family will not be financially responsible for any necessities directly associated with your attendance at Durmstrang. The Ministry will see that everything required is taken care of. And should any unforeseen school-related expenses crop up during the school-year, you shall, of course, be reimbursed."

Ginny looked down into her lap, blushing brightly in embarrassment, her ears tingling with a strange heat as Crowbeam acknowledged her exact fear.

"Anything else not in direct relation to school," Crowbeam continued as if he hadn't noticed her reaction, "must be covered by you or your family. Things that are not necessities, but optional, such as dress robes, an owl or cat, and any spending money you might want."

Ginny began to realize that this was more than reasonable. Brand new school things, Ministry protection, a fresh start at a new school? She was practically ready to sign right now!

"Where is this Sangerville Crossing?" Molly Weasley spoke up.

"We're all familiar with Hogsmeade," Crowbeam said. "Sangerville Crossing is a tiny all-wizarding village near Durmstrang. Its location is also Unplottable, or I would point it out to you on the map. But unlike Hogsmeade, no one actually lives there. It consists only of shops and public places. It was founded by the same wizard who started Durmstrang. It's merely an outpost where wizarding business takes place. Quiet and out of the way. Yet close to a school, so people are sure to come. I understand that students are allowed to visit on the weekends."

Molly nodded in understanding.

"Well," said Arthur turning to his wife, then to Crowbeam, "everything seems to be in order, I'd say. Are you ready to sign, Ginny?"

Arthur looked expectantly at his daughter. But Ginny was looking straight at Solomon Crowbeam, who seemed as though he had something more to say.

Crowbeam stood and cleared his throat.

"There's just one more thing before you sign, Miss Weasley," Crowbeam said unexpectedly.

Molly and Arthur turned round to look at him. They had clearly thought there was nothing more to be said. They were wrong.

"I'm sorry, Arthur, Molly," Crowbeam said, genuinely apologetic, "But I have to ask that I speak with Ginny in private for a moment before she signs the contract."

Arthur did _not_ look happy. But he said not a word as he stood and helped Molly to her feet. They exited the room through the same door that Bill and Fleur had gone through, Arthur pausing in the doorway to give a look of warning at Crowbeam, and one of consolation to his confused daughter.

Once they had left the room, Crowbeam re-activated the Silencing charm, and turned to face Ginny. She found she was not as nervous as she should have been as Crowbeam began to speak.

"Miss Weasley, I know you are not part of the Order of the Phoenix. Nor am I. But in asking you to take on such a dangerous task, there are things I need to make sure you understand before you go. Some things even your parents don't know about."

Ginny looked at him strangely. What could he possibly know that her parents didn't? Especially if he wasn't even in the Order?

"Let me ask you, Miss Weasley," he said with quiet intensity, "what you know about Horcruxes…"

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**(A/N: I meant to mention this in chapter 1, but I forgot: a big, big, BIG thank you to my lovely Beta, Gwenog Jones! I couldn't have done it without her! **

**Also, I will be posting Author's Notes for this story on my profile, so if you have questions about things I have mentioned, or if you want to know my reasoning behind certain aspects of the storyline, feel free to check there before messaging me. Hope you all enjoy the story so far!**

**Hearts, Afro-Smith)**


	4. A Solomon Oath and Promise

**Disclaimer: The only place I own Harry Potter (or the characters and settings of his magical world) is in my dreams. They all actually belong to J.K. Rowling, as if you didn't know.**

"Excuse me?" Ginny asked, perplexed. "What I know about…what?"

"Horcruxes, Miss Weasley," Crowbeam reasserted. "Have you never heard mention of them?"

"Umm…no?" Ginny answered truthfully.

"Not even from Miss Granger, or your brother? Or, dare I say, Mr. Potter?"

"No," Ginny said again, "Should I have?"

"Well that's what we are trying to figure out," Crowbeam stated.

Ginny looked intently at Crowbeam. She realized that Harry and the others had been somewhat secretive before they had left, but surely if these "Horcruxes" were so important, Harry would have said something to her about them, if for no other reason then to tell her she shouldn't talk to the Ministry about them. But since it obviously wasn't important enough for Harry to mention to her, she decided it must not concern him.

"So you can honestly say that you have never heard of a Horcrux?" Crowbeam continued.

"No, I've never heard of them," Ginny affirmed. "What are they?"

"A Horcrux is an item of nearly unspeakable evil," Crowbeam stated.

At this, Ginny felt a slow chill creep up her back, the goose pimples gradually forming on her bare forearms.

Crowbeam went on, "It's very Dark magic. You see, it enables a Dark wizard to have some semblance of immortality. It encases a part of his soul so that while the Horcrux exists, he cannot die."

Ginny gasped.

"A Horcrux is made when the wizard rips his soul in two and stores part of it in an article outside his physical body. He then binds the ripped portion of soul to that outer object so he can keep the extra piece in a safe place, so that if something happens to the rest of him, his soul will still exist on the mortal plane," Crowbeam explained, as Ginny turned rigid with unease. "But the ripping of souls is dangerous and wicked. The only way for a soul to be broken apart so completely that it can live in two different locations, is by committing an act of supreme evil. Namely…murder."

Ginny felt her stomach lurch at the thought. She couldn't believe anyone would willingly do that to themselves. But who would do such a thing? Someone who would value immortal evil over a normal existence…

"There are a few select Aurors in my department who have been researching these horrid devices. And some have come to the conclusion that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named may have created one. There is confidential evidence which points to this as a distinct possibility," Crowbeam told her.

Ginny felt ill. She wished she'd never heard of Horcruxes – maybe ignorance really was bliss.

"So where do I fit in all this?" she managed to ask rather timidly.

"Well, you see, it is our belief that Harry Potter might also think such a contrivance exists and that he may be under the impression that it is his duty to find and destroy the evil object – making He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named mortal once again. We are assuming Mr. Potter has taken your brother and Miss Granger along with him on this search, however unwise that decision may be."

Ginny thought this idea was rather ridiculous. Crowbeam was talking about her family and friends. She knew they would have told her if they were off hunting for Dark objects. It would be too dangerous for them _not_ to tell her. She looked at Crowbeam skeptically.

"So even if Harry is supposedly off looking for You-Know-Who's lost soul, where does that put me?" Ginny inquired doubtfully.

Crowbeam considered her for a moment before responding, "Because, Miss Weasley, you are being asked to keep your eyes and ears open while in this sensitive undercover position at Durmstrang. And I want to make absolutely sure that you don't miss anything important. By mentioning a possible motivation for Mr. Potter's absence, I was merely pointing out a potentially parallel connection that may give you incentive to report your findings immediately."

Ginny stared at him without speaking.

"Did you really think that if I hadn't just explained the nature of Horcruxes to you, that you would have recognized the term as something that needed to be reported? I'm just making sure that you fully understand _everything_ that is possibly going on," Crowbeam clarified. "When you report information to the Ministry, you will normally do so through your father and mother. They have been given the proper training in dealing with discreet matters such as this. But if you should ever hear even the slightest whisper of Horcruxes you must bypass the usual means and communicate with me directly. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir," Ginny said, stiffening at the sudden forcefulness in his tone. "And how am I to do that, sir?"

"With your parents, you will be able to write letters and have them sent in the conventional way, since mail is not being intercepted and checked through at Durmstrang. That will suffice for now. Though if that changes, you will be notified, and another communication method will be put in place," Crowbeam established. "As for your direct contact with me, I believe _this_ will do the trick."

As he said this he pulled a small pouch out of his robes, which Ginny saw was attached to a cord around his neck. He reached into the pouch and took out two small silver objects, flat and shiny. Ginny saw that they were two hand mirrors. She looked up at him, not knowing what to make of them.

"These are very valuable," he explained. "And rare. They cannot be replaced, so do try not to damage yours in any way. Even a scratch can affect the potency of the magic imbued in it."

"I'll try my best," Ginny murmured. "But what do they _do_?"

"These are two way mirrors. I doubt you will have seen any before, as they are exceptionally uncommon," Crowbeam offered. "You will take one with you to school, and I will keep the other. Just say my name into it – Solomon – and you'll appear in my mirror, and when I respond, you'll see me in yours. It's effective communication that can never be intercepted while we each have one mirror."

Ginny was awed. It was quite a clever invention. She picked up the mirror that was to be hers, examining the smooth, sterling back, which had simple scrollwork around the edges. Turning it over, it seemed like any other mirror. She saw her own, slightly worried face staring back at her. Ginny looked up as Crowbeam moved suddenly to pass her a pouch similar to the one he was wearing himself.

"You might want to keep it safe in there," he said as Ginny wrapped the mirror in her handkerchief before tucking it away neatly in the little pouch.

"You won't need to keep it on you at all times, but if there ever comes a time when you will need to do so, the precaution has been taken," Crowbeam said resolutely. "On the same note, I am terribly sorry, Miss Weasley, but I must ask you never to reveal to anyone that this mirror is in your possession. Not your family or friends."

Ginny sighed and looked down at the pouch that now contained her mirror. So many secrets! Of course she would have to agree or she wouldn't be able to follow through with this. And she'd already come so far.

"I won't tell anyone," Ginny spoke quietly. "Not a soul."

"Good," Crowbeam said, nodding stiffly. "Now then, just to make absolutely sure, to review: Once you have arrived at Durmstrang with your things, properly attired, and under a new name, you will act as any normal student. You may let on that you are more perceptive than the average pupil, but you are really just listening for any information that the Order of the Phoenix or I might deem useful or important. There will be no way to abort this mission should something go wrong, which is just as well: it has been planned so nothing _can_ go wrong. You will report general findings to the Ministry through your parents, and any _other_ information to me. Do you understand absolutely everything being asked of you?"

He said this last part with such an air of finality that Ginny was sure what he was really saying was that she'd _better_ understand everything. If she were anyone else, she might have flinched at his tone, but as it was, she really felt that she _did_ understand everything.

"Yes, sir," she said tightly as she looked straight into his endlessly black eyes. She was polite, but with an edge of defiance, letting him know, without words, that she was mature enough to handle these matters without having to be nudged in the right direction, or rushed.

Crowbeam must have noticed the slight rebelliousness in her eyes, for he brought himself to his full height as he looked down at her and continued.

"No one who knows you as Ginevra Weasley must know where you are, or who you are professing to be. Is that clear?" he said rather forcefully.

Ginny nodded stiffly. She wouldn't back down.

"Not even Harry Potter or Hermione Granger, and also, for the time being, your brother Ronald, who has left family and Ministry protection in favour of Potter's company. Your parents will be the only family members you can confide in completely, and I will be the only individual within the Ministry who will know _directly_ what your situation is at any given time. Are we agreed?"

"Yes, _sir_," Ginny said once again. He was pushing her on purpose, and she didn't like it. Why was he testing her? There was an uncomfortable pause as he finally moved to withdraw a quill from a pocket of his robes. It was a fine, glossy feather with a very sharp point. He then produced a small glass bottle of ink. Ginny rationally assumed that a special ink and quill would be needed to sign such a serious pact, and didn't question his actions.

As she sat stock still and stared at his unreadable face, she contemplated what he could be thinking. His gaze was so invasive, but she refused to let him make her feel inferior. He watched her carefully as he set the ink bottle on the kitchen table in front of her, with a pleasant _clink_. Crowbeam then reached inside his robes and pulled out a brittle roll of parchment and unfurled it so it faced Ginny where she sat. She glanced down at the paper, and then quickly back up to Crowbeam, trying not to squint as though she suspected him of something. He raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

Ginny scanned the contract. There was no fine print. Everything they had already discussed was stated clearly. There seemed to be no loopholes; no room for deceit. Ginny took a breath and looked back up at Crowbeam. Without blinking, she said boldly, "I think I'm ready."

"Would you prefer I called your parents back into the room?" Crowbeam asked more gently, twirling the long black quill between his fingers. "Some minors find comfort in having a parent or guardian present to provide moral support."

Ginny knew that having her parents in the room with her, most especially her weeping mother, would have the opposite effect: she might lose heart. And if she did this, there must be no qualms; she knew there would be no looking back.

"No," she said firmly as she looked straight into Solomon's black eyes.

"Very well," Crowbeam said with an appraising sort of look, and handed her the quill.

Ginny took it without hesitation. She bent over the parchment contract and stared at the line where she was to sign; where her fate would be sealed. She couldn't believe she was actually doing this. _Just do it_, a voice whispered in the back of her mind. She gulped once and then, with rather a flourish of the quill feather, she signed the stiff parchment in one smooth motion.

The second she crossed the tail of the "y" in her last name, the parchment flew several feet into the air, gathering itself into a scroll – spinning faster and faster. It even seemed to be smoking a little at the ends. As it trembled and spun in the air, Ginny noticed a thick gold band slowly snake its way around the center of the roll. But instead of meeting itself again in the middle, the band traveled in a spiral toward either end, much like the stripes on a stick of Christmas candy. Once the gold band reached from end to end, the scroll gave a last quiver and vanished in a small puff of green smoke.

Ginny gasped inwardly as she stared, shocked, at the place where the contract had been. Out of the corner of her eye, she barely registered Crowbeam near the kitchen door, removing the silencing charms. She felt a tiny pang of regret as he went to retrieve her parents, leaving her alone at the table. There was only one thought in her mind, _What have I done?_


	5. Fortune Favours the Brave

**Disclaimer: The only place I own Harry Potter (or the characters and settings of his magical world) is in my dreams. They all actually belong to J.K. Rowling, as if you didn't know.**

Ginny's parents had been decidedly furious when they found out that she had signed the contract without them. They found it foolish of Ginny, but they were even more incensed with Solomon Crowbeam, who "should have known better than to have an underage witch sign something without a parent present!" as her mother so angrily put it. But since Ginny had already signed it, there was no way out. She had signed away one full school-year of her life, and nothing could be done to change it. Well, nothing that didn't involve dying.

Arthur and Molly Weasley were silently fuming downstairs, their bad mood affecting Ginny's nerves so badly that she decided to go to bed early. She needed the extra rest anyway, because Solomon Crowbeam would be calling for her at nine o'clock sharp to collect her and be her escort to the village of Sangerville Crossing, where she would purchase her school things, and she had a lot to think about.

She already owned some of the basic wizarding learning implements (like parchment, quills, a wand, and other essentials), and her parents were buying most of her books in Diagon Alley on the Ministry's dime, but all of her new Durmstrang-specific clothing would have to be bought brand new.

She was excited. And nervous. And a little scared. And yet strangely confident. This was nothing like her first day at Hogwarts. She'd been so young and afraid then. But now it was more like starting an adventure; like waking up from a dream, to face a new day. The possibilities seemed limitless. She could make new friends, learn new things, travel where no one in her immediate family had ever traveled, and although she felt she should have saved some room for uncertainty in the face of this new escapade, she knew that Solomon had taken care of everything, and she couldn't help but let her optimism take over as she drifted off into an easy sleep.

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When Ginny awoke in the morning, everything came flooding into her mind and excited her all over again. She smiled to herself before she had even opened her eyes, knowing instinctively that she had awoken earlier than was required. Ginny had always enjoyed the advantage of being a light, alert sleeper when she knew she had something important the next day. And today was no exception. She opened her eyes and looked across the room to the old fashioned clock on her desk, which showed she had fifteen minutes before she needed to get up. So she stretched and burrowed back under her blankets, finding a nice cool spot on her pillow to lay her cheek. But try as she might, she couldn't get back to sleep. She sighed in mild exasperation, and flung her bed-clothes to the side, letting the breeze wake her more fully as she rose to start the day.

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Molly and Arthur watched with interest as Ginny lightly skipped down the stairs to grab some breakfast before Solomon Crowbeam arrived. They made no effort to hide the fact that they were staring as she bounced into a chair at the kitchen table, picking out the best pieces of bacon as she sat. She was even humming off-key as she chewed.

It was plain to Ginny that her parents were gaping at her curiously. But she had decided to make the best of things, and her fervor couldn't be contained. She didn't look directly at either of them, because she knew their faces would be a blatant display of reticence. She figured they probably hadn't quite gotten over yesterday's events, and that they were unenthusiastic, to say the least, that Solomon would be accompanying her to Sangerville Crossing.

Nobody spoke as Ginny wolfed down the rest of her breakfast, and went back up to her room to retrieve the envelope that contained her acceptance letter. She wanted to bring it with her to ensure that she didn't miss anything she was supposed to buy. She bounded down the stairs, her curtain of flaming red hair whipping playfully behind her, just as a puff of soot from the next room announced that Solomon Crowbeam had arrived.

He nodded stiffly as she entered the room, a half-smile playing about the corners of his mouth. Her parents had already come in the room, and were looking at Crowbeam as though they were reluctant to let Ginny pass into his care. But he seemed to be assuring them wordlessly as he shook Arthur's hand in greeting. Ginny was still reserving judgment on Crowbeam's character, but something about the way he moved and gestured today seemed altogether pleasant and heartening. Maybe it was something about his eyes that made Ginny unsure. In any case, he didn't seem as moody and forceful as he had been the day before.

"Good Morning, Miss Weasley," Crowbeam said agreeably as Ginny moved to stand next to her parents.

"Good morning," Ginny responded. Her mother had taken her hand and given it an encouraging sort of squeeze, before backing up with her father to give Ginny and Crowbeam some space. Ginny looked curiously at her parents; they seemed so unwilling to talk, especially now that Crowbeam was in the room. What was it about his presence that was so confounding? Ginny hoped she would soon find out.

"Are you ready to go?" Crowbeam asked Ginny in a smooth voice. "Have you got everything you need?"

"Quite," Ginny said through a deep breath. "Ready whenever you are."

She looked expectantly at her mother, who usually had something to say to anyone, but Molly was not even looking at Ginny. She was silently looking with narrowed eyes at Solomon Crowbeam, who appeared, or pretended, not to notice her stare.

Solomon pulled a brown drawstring pouch from his pocket.

"We're going by Floo, I'm afraid," he apologized. "I hope you don't mind too terribly."

"Not at all," Ginny said brightly. It wasn't as though she had never traveled by Floo before.

Crowbeam held out the pouch to her. She reached in and pulled out a handful of the gritty powder.

"You may want to take another handful," Crowbeam advised. "Just in case."

Ginny looked quizzically at him for a brief moment before reaching in her other hand and pulling out a second handful.

"Just say 'Sangerville's Cross'," Crowbeam told her. "That will take you directly into the train station, where we want to arrive."

Hazarding a glance back at her parents, Ginny offered a hesitant, "Bye, Mum" before throwing both handfuls of Floo Powder into the fireplace and stepping into the brilliant green flames.

"Sangerville's Cross," she said loudly and clearly. And then she was immediately pulled into a dark traveling tunnel, spinning and spiraling. As she shuddered along, she pulled her arms close to her jostled body, clenching her robes in her fists when the rumbling became intense. She went on this way for what seemed like hours. And when she came to an abrupt halt, she felt a bit ill, as if she'd left her stomach back at home, nearly a continent away.

When the world stopped spinning long enough for Ginny to open her eyes, she saw that she was in a somewhat crowded area. It was a train station, not quite bustling with travelers, but busy enough that she would have felt quite overwhelmed if she had been traveling alone. The frenzied people all seemed to look right through her as they hastened past - as if she were an unimportant piece of scenery. She stepped aside to wait for Crowbeam, and leaned against the grubby wall next to the fireplace from which she had just stepped.

Nobody here seemed to be happy or cheerful, there was hardly any speaking at all, and everyone was rushing about as if they were late for something. As Ginny looked around, she noticed a man in dark blue robes standing behind a ticket counter. He was the only one who seemed not to be hurrying along in any way. In fact, he seemed to be rather enjoying a leisurely pace as he meticulously checked paperwork and handed over tickets to harried-looking customers. As she stared in his direction, his head gave a miniscule jerk upwards from the parchment pass he was handing one woman, and his eyes met hers for a split second, a mischievous twinkle gleaming in his eye. Ginny immediately blushed, as she had been caught in the act of staring, and instantly looked away. When she dared another glance back at him, she found he was still gazing at her, but before she could turned away this time, he gave her a small wink, and then turned away himself.

Unsettled, Ginny suddenly found herself wishing Crowbeam would hurry up and get there. It felt like hours since she had left the comfort of the Burrow. She was unsure how long she had been in transition, but it seemed to take much longer than a trip to Diagon Alley might have taken. She couldn't be too sure, though, because traveling by Floo Powder is always something of a disconcerting experience, no matter how brief. Upon looking at a clock on the nearest wall, though, she found that it was nearly nine thirty, and that she had been traveling for almost half of an hour. As Solomon Crowbeam stepped out of the fireplace behind her, she mused that the journey must have taken so long because they were traveling a much farther distance than she had ever been by Floo before.

Solomon Crowbeam's arrival interrupted her thoughts and he wasted no time in getting down to business.

"Shall we?" he said as he swept one hand towards the front of the building. Instead of answering, Ginny just nodded and followed in his wake as they headed to the old wooden arch marking the front entrance.

The air was definitely colder here. It was practically a smell. Everything felt foreign and even sights that should have been familiar seemed disconnected, hostile, almost.

As they stood on the walk just outside the train station, Ginny saw that the town was not nearly so crowded as Diagon Alley, or even Hogsmeade, but that the people themselves were just as interesting as they moved hurriedly up or down the street, which Ginny noted was called "Crescent Way."

Crowbeam must have seen her look at the street sign, because he stated, "The streets running North and South here are named after the phases of the moon."

He always seemed to answer her questions before she asked them – no, before they had even fully formed into questions at all. Ginny just didn't know how he did it. But it was certainly unnerving.

Just in front of them across the way, were two large, tall buildings, magically adjoined, which seemed to take up the whole block on that side of the street. The building on the left was a dingy white and had a grimy, creaky wooden sign swinging from a perpendicular beam above the door. The old, weathered wood was engraved with a pictograph of a shining lantern, above which read "The Inn at Sangerville's Cross." _How original_, Ginny thought to herself with a small smirk. The even dirtier-looking building to the right had a similar sign with a depiction of a frothy mug. There were no words on this sign, but there was a wide window next to the door, through which Ginny could see the silhouettes of tables and chairs, and shadowy figures eating and drinking. And upon the window was painted in a great arc "The Larvalis at Sangerville Crossing."

"Come along, Miss Weasley," Solomon Crowbeam said as he ushered her to the left. "We don't have much time to dawdle."

Ginny let him steer her up the street until they came to a juncture where Crescent intersected with the High Street. Here they turned right, Ginny noticing that there was some kind of grocer's store to the left, as they began to cross "Half Street," which seemed to dead-end down a dark, gloomy lane. Ginny shuddered a bit, as she looked left into the shadows, but it may just have been from a wind that swept up the street, ruffling her robes around her ankles.

"Just this way," Crowbeam said rather loudly over the sudden gust.

"Where exactly are we going?" Ginny asked him as they set foot under the awning of an establishment called "Petrovic's Wizard Clothier."

"You have your acceptance letter with you, I trust?" Solomon asked, turning to face her.

"Yes," Ginny said, pulling it from her inside pocket.

"Let's see it then," Crowbeam said amiably, as she found the correct page. It read:

_**DURMSTRANG STUDENT REQUIREMENTS:**_

_**Uniform:**_

_3 sets of plain black work robes_

_2 sets of traditional crimson dining/competition robes_

_1 black fur-lined cloak_

_1 black fur-lined cap_

_1 pair of black dragon-hide boots_

_1 pair of black dragon-hide protective gloves_

_(All students clothing/belongings must carry name tags or be otherwise properly labeled)_

_**Equipment:**_

_1 wand_

_1 pewter cauldron_

_1 set of crystal phials_

_1 telescope_

_1 set of brass scales_

_**6**__**th**__** Year Books:**_

_The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 6)__ by Miranda Goshawk_

_A History of Magic__ by Bathilda Bagshot_

_The Dark Arts: A Historical Perspective__ by Helmric Harding_

_Advanced Potion-Making__ by Libatius Borage_

_The Art of Healing, Volume Two__ by Tiddrick Broom_

_A Student's Guide to Advanced Transfiguration__ by Emeric Switch_

_Green Magic: An Encyclopedia of Magical Plant-Life__ by Ambrosia Cotterell_

_The MacGregor Method: Defensive Attack__ by Eris Vandergrift_

_Ancient Evils: The Complete Book of Summoning, Conjuring, and Curses (Student Edition)__ by Tarquin Shrode_

_**Optional:**_

_1 owl or cat_

_Dress robes_

_Broomstick_

Ginny had looked over the list several times already, and skimmed it quickly while Crowbeam seemed to read it more fully. She watched him and waited for him to speak. When he had finished reading, he said,

"This clothing store here? This is where you will purchase your school clothes. But we have one stop to make first. As you may have guessed, not _all_ of your books may be purchased at a normal wizarding bookstore. Your parents will be buying eight of your new books at Flourish and Blotts in Diagon Alley. But while there is a branch of that store here, I can guarantee that they do not carry the ninth book. We have to go to a special store for that one. It's just down this street."

Ginny looked at him uncomfortably. She had a funny feeling that her parents didn't know about any ninth book that couldn't be bought at a conventional wizarding bookshop.

Following Crowbeam's lead, she set off again down the street, passing the "Offae Restaurant & Café" and "Tripalo Family Formals and Eventwear" on the right, and the clothing shop, a small guard station, and "Harriet's Housewares" on the left. Ginny wasn't entirely at ease with the fact that Sangerville Crossing had its own permanent guard post in town, but decided not to bring it up with Solomon until later.

As the High Street intersected "Full Street" Ginny realized that this must be the center of town. The buildings here seemed oldest, and it was much busier than even the train station had been. They crossed the street to "Benko's Athletic Wizarding Supply," which was opposite the "Regis Filia Ladies' Shoppe & Salon."

"We're almost there," Crowbeam assured her as he continued up the street, stopping in front of "Djerek's Defense Emporium," which was a building that seemed to be made out of steel. It was like a fortress amongst the other buildings. Stark and imposing, it rose higher than any building she had yet seen in the town. Above the wooden double doors at the entrance, an elegant cursive was etched: "_De inimico non loquaris sed cogites_." Ginny had no idea what it meant, but when combined with the foreboding air about the building, she figured it was nothing altogether pleasant.

Seeing her face, Crowbeam followed her gaze and said, "It means 'Don't wish ill for your enemy – plan it."

Ginny gasped almost inaudibly. Apparently Durmstrang really _did_ have a different approach to defensive magic. Ginny gulped as Crowbeam now directed her to look to the right, across the street, at an even more disturbing sight. This building had an old-fashioned two-storey façade, though the building looked to be only one floor. The false front was filthy, and stained with what looked like it might even be blood. The store had no windows, but boasted two artfully painted Trompe L'Oeile versions where windows would have been on either side of the door. A once-grandly painted banner announced that this was, or had at one time been, "Magica Volasko's Dark Exchange." The parts of the storefront meant to be flashy and inviting had once been violet or fuchsia and deep amethyst blue. But the colours had faded to pale, sinister derivations, making the shop's exterior seem like a carnival-gone-wrong.

"That's it," Crowbeam said, pointing to the ominous atrocity now in front of her.

"That's what?" Ginny asked in a strained whisper.

"The Dark Exchange," Crowbeam said, mocking her discomfort with the amusement in his voice, "where you'll buy your last book."

"Oh," said Ginny, only half-caring that he found her reaction so entertaining.

Before she could say another word or gather her thoughts, he had started to cross the street toward the store's entrance, not even looking back to see if she would follow. She roused herself from her shocked state and timidly scurried up behind him to the door. He put one hand on the greasy iron handle and pulled hard. The door opened with a little grunt, and Crowbeam guided her gently over the threshold and into the dimness of the darkest store she had ever set foot in.

To her surprise, Ginny found the interior to be quite the opposite of her gruesome expectations. Though it was admittedly darker than any shop she had been in before, it seemed immaculately clean and completely organized, and there was even a faint, satisfying fragrance of patchouli lingering in the air. There wasn't any merchandise on display, but there was a row of filing cabinets along the back wall, while dark, looming portraits lined the others. There was an old chandelier with glowing candlesticks hanging from the center of the ceiling, and some of the candles had melted down so far that they had gone out. From where she could see in the dimness, Ginny saw that there were two big, antique desks of dark polished wood in front of the row of filing cabinets, and there was a door in the shadows behind the desk on the right, that probably led somewhere Ginny didn't really want to think about.

"Good Morning," a pleasant voice rang out from across the large room. "May I help you?"

Ginny willed her eyes to adjust to the lighting and saw a woman getting up from the desk on the left. As the light hit her face, Ginny saw that the woman was astoundingly beautiful. She was tall and slender with long, straight black hair that fell to her waist, and high, arched brows perfectly positioned over dark eyes that glimmered with mystery. She had full, dark red lips, and pale, perfect skin. As she came closer, her heels clicking across the dark-polished wooden floor, Ginny realized that the smell of patchouli was coming from her.

"Yes," Crowbeam said after clearing his throat awkwardly. "We're here to buy a book for this young lady, here."

Ginny was glad to see that she wasn't the only one who found the woman's beauty intimidating.

"We have many books," the woman teased. "Which one were you hoping to find?"

When she spoke, Ginny saw that she had brilliantly white, straight teeth, and as she closed the last of the distance between them, Ginny saw that the woman also had on low-cut robes of pure black, that seemed to float around her, as though in water.

"Ah, yes," said Crowbeam, clearing his throat again, "Show the woman your list."

Ginny handed the parchment to the woman, who took it, grazing a long fingernail over Ginny's skin as she did so. Ginny didn't get the immediate feeling that the woman was in any way evil, but she exuded something in her demeanor that Ginny couldn't quite place. It was disquieting, whatever else it was.

"All of these?" the woman asked congenially in a ringing tone.

"No, just the last one will do," Crowbeam stated, appearing to have recovered his poise at last.

The woman scanned the parchment and then looked at Crowbeam with a raised brow.

"Just the last one?" she repeated. "Very well."

She then turned her back to them and walked part of the way back across the room.

"Circe!" she called towards the door behind the second desk.

The walls shook as someone with heavy footsteps could be heard running up stairs beneath them. The beautiful woman was making her way back over to Ginny and Solomon, when a second, slightly younger-looking woman burst through the doorway.

"Circe, we have another Durmstrang student looking to buy "Ancient Evils" by Shrode. Do we have any left in stock?"

The equally-gorgeous young woman nodded and said, "I think so. Let me check."

She then exited through the same door in which she had come, leaving Ginny, Solomon, and the beautiful woman standing together near the entrance.

"Oh, and I'm Magica Volasko," the woman said silkily, holding out her hand for Crowbeam to take. "This store's been in my family for two-hundred years."

"How delightful," Crowbeam said as he took her hand and made a slight bow.

"And you are?" she asked looking first at Crowbeam and then at Ginny.

"My name is Solomon Crowbeam," Solomon said. "And this is my lovely young charge, Imogene Wells. She'll be in her sixth year this fall."

"Enchanting young thing," Ms. Volasko said evenly as she dropped Crowbeam's hand and focused on Ginny. "New this year?"

"Yes," Ginny replied looking at Magica's perfectly sculpted features.

"How nice," Magica said quietly. "I went there some years ago. Circe, too, more recently. Lovely school."

But she said no more, for Circe was walking briskly into the room carrying an old, battered-looking tome with frayed binding, and yellow, warped pages. The faded wine-coloured cover was practically falling off, and the spine was cracked. It smelled musty and moldy, and the lettering on the front had worn off so completely that it was illegible.

"Well, here you are, then," Magica Volasko crooned softly.

She never quoted a price, but Crowbeam must have known what to do, because he pulled a small black pouch from an inner pocket, which was heavy with coins. Ginny didn't know how much, but it must have been a lot.

"Will that do?" Crowbeam asked formally.

"Yes, I believe this will quite cover it," Magica said smoothly in her bell-like voice. "Will there be anything else?"

"Not today, thank you," Crowbeam affirmed. "Good day to you, then."

"And to you," Magica said sleekly, as she led them back to the door. "Come again soon."

Crowbeam made another stiff bow as he stepped to the door.

"Perhaps," he said calmly.

Ms. Volasko turned toward Ginny to say, "And we'll be seeing _you_ soon enough, I daresay"

Ginny looked up at her with a jolt.

"Umm…it was nice meeting you," she politely managed in a quiet voice. Magica Volasko said nothing, but simply raised her eyebrow again as Ginny and Crowbeam left the shop.

X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X

So the charade had begun. Ginny had officially been introduced as Imogene Wells. She heaved a great sigh, her breath barely a visible whisper in the slightly chilly air. Solomon Crowbeam was walking ahead of her back down the High Street, taking big strides, as though to distance himself from the shop they had just left. Ginny followed suit, if only to keep up.

They again passed the ladies' shoppe, the formalwear shop, and the restaurant on the left, then crossed the street to the right, so that they were again standing in front of Petrovic's Wizard Clothier.

"I assume you're no stranger to getting yourself measured for robes?" Crowbeam questioned before they entered the store.

Ginny didn't want to admit that her robes had always been secondhand and that she had never actually been properly measured for any before. So she just lied and nodded.

"Good," Crowbeam said warmly, "because I'm afraid I have to leave you alone to finish your shopping."

Ginny froze to the spot and gaped at him.

"Don't worry," Crowbeam told her gently, "I won't be leaving the village or anything. I just have someone I need to meet right now."

"How long will you be?" Ginny asked, worried that he might somehow be lying and that she would get left behind in this strange town.

"I'm not sure actually," Crowbeam said, "But it's safe to assume I'll be longer than it'll take _you_ to get measured and buy your new things, so you can meet me when you're done."

"Meet you where?" Ginny asked nervously.

"At the Larvalis," Crowbeam said reassuringly. "You remember how to get there, right?"

Ginny started to nod, but then hesitated, so Crowbeam went on, "It's the pub adjoining the inn across the street from the train station. You can't miss it."

"Oh, ok," Ginny said, putting on a brave front. "I'll come and find you when I'm done."

"Oh, and don't forget this," Crowbeam said as he reached into his robes and pulled out another coin-laden pouch. "Don't think I'd leave you hanging."

Ginny managed a small smile, and murmured a quick "Thanks," and then Crowbeam was off, walking briskly down the street, leaving her alone outside the clothier. She took a deep breath and went in.

Aside from being dismal and a bit cramped, this store was almost exactly what Ginny had pictured from the outside. A long mahogany counter stood at the far left, where a handsome young man was helping a customer and her small son. As she entered, a bell tinkled overhead, though none was visible. The young man at the counter looked up for a moment, but then went back to the customers.

The interior walls were painted a dark, attractive shade of cornflower blue. Bolts of different fabrics lined the wall behind the counter and what appeared to be a selection of whole animal skins was hanging in a corner to the far right. Here and there around the store were racks of uniform, pre-made black work robes. Ginny would likely purchase some of these herself.

There was also an interesting display with two children's sized robes – one in green, one in grey – with two black pointed hats. The robes in the display were filled out as though two small people were wearing them, but no mannequin was there to keep the shape. And the hats just hovered above where the child's head would be. The little figures were positioned as though moving: the green figure riding a toy broomstick, the grey figure positioned to look like it was chasing after. And both of the small figure's robes were rippling, though there was no breeze.

As she stared at the endearing display, Ginny heard a cough somewhere behind her. Expecting to see the handsome young man, she turned around smiling, but was taken aback by the appearance of a gruff older man with disheveled white hair, and wild blue eyes. His robes were opened down the front, and Ginny could see that he was wearing what looked like Muggle suspenders underneath them.

"Well?" he said a bit harshly, when she wasn't the first to speak.

Ginny was surprised by his forwardness, but put on her best smile and tried to win him over with civility.

"_Well_," she said, not mimicking his tone in the slightest, "I'm going to be starting at Durmstrang this fall, and I need to buy new school robes. I hope you can help me with that, sir."

She was engaging and winsome, and smiling in the way she always did when she had been disobedient and it was her father who was supposed to be punishing her.

The old man looked at her and "harrumphed" to himself, but seemed to succumb to her charms a little and said,

"Well, I do think I can help you there," he said in the same gruff tone, though the attitude was considerably lighter.

Ginny smiled up at him.

"Thank you, sir," she said through her smile. "I'm sure you're familiar with the school's clothing requirements?"

The old man nodded and turned toward the back of the store. Raising his wand he summoned a tape measure from a basket on the countertop. The thin white ribbon came fluttering to him, and he caught it as it laid itself across his outstretched palm.

"Over here," he grumbled as he led her to one of two cylindrical wooden platforms in the center of the shop. He gestured that she should stand on one and hold her arms out to the sides. She did so, and the tape measure began to wrap itself around her waist, arms, neck, head – everywhere – taking measurements of its own volition. The old man started to move away and called back to her over his shoulder, "It'll come find me when it's done."

Ginny stood on the little pedestal and sighed. The handsome young store clerk was still in conversation with the mother at the counter, not even looking up as the tape measure flapped around her body. She supposed now would be as good a time as any to mull things over.

She didn't know how long this would take, as she'd never been measured for robes before, but she guessed it would take a while. She thought about the odd, cold feeling she had gotten from Magica Volasko and hoped she didn't _really_ expect to see Ginny so soon. She thought about Solomon Crowbeam and how his deportment could change so drastically. She still hadn't quite figured him out. And most of all, she thought about Durmstrang. She was nervous to attend school there. She didn't know how safe it would be, but for some reason, she trusted Crowbeam, and felt sure that he would never lead her into danger. As she thought more about it, she came to think that Durmstrang, as an institution known for its association with the Dark Arts, really _would_ be the last place anyone would ever think to look for her. It was the complete opposite of what people would expect from her "blood-traitor" family. At least she had that going for her.

One thing she _didn't_ have going for her, was the lack of communication with the other members of her family. She loved _all_ of her family and it would be hard to only hear directly from her parents. Charlie was still studying dragons in Romania, which made him her nearest relative, and she couldn't even tell him anything! That was so frustrating!

Ginny hadn't even realized that the tape measure had disappeared and the old man had come back, until he spoke to her, waking her from her anxious ponderings.

"Who was that man you were just with outside?" the old man asked suspiciously.

"Oh, him? He's just an…er…he's my uncle" Ginny lied.

The old man squinted at her and then let the subject go, when he seemed to think this was a satisfactory response.

"Leave her alone, father," the young man from the counter said, coming over to where Ginny and the old man stood. As Ginny looked up, she saw the woman and her small son, leaving the shop, a tinkling bell sound escorting them out.

"I'll take it from here," the young man said, nudging his father out of the way.

The old man looked defiantly at his son, "harrumphed" again, and then toddled away mumbling to himself.

"I'm sorry about that," the young man said. "He sometimes gets carried away and frightens the customers. Maybe he's been in this business too long, I don't know."

He smiled at her.

"Anyway, my name is Ivo," he said extending a hand. "I overheard you saying you were going to be attending Durmstrang."

He blushed a little at this admission.

"Are you new, then?" he asked.

Ginny shook his hand and said, "Yes. I'll be in my sixth year. Do you go there, too?"

"Yes, all my family have gone to Durmstrang," Ivo said affably. "I'll be in the seventh year, but my sister Miloska is a sixth year, just like you."

The boy's accent was definitely Slavic, though she couldn't place its exact origin.

"Do you like it there, then?" Ginny asked, as Ivo went behind the counter to take down some bolts of blood-red fabric.

"Oh, yes," he said enthusiastically. "I wouldn't go anywhere else – Durmstrang is the best there is!"

Ginny answered him skeptically before she could stop herself.

"No it's not!" she said. Her eyes then widened by what she had just heard herself say.

"How would you know?" Ivo asked her, teasing. "Where did _you_ go before?"

Ginny thought frantically; they hadn't exactly rehearsed what she was to say. But she was a good actor, and thought quickly on her feet.

"Oh, I was home-taught," she said, her cheeks colouring. "But…well…I've _heard_ there are better schools, is all."

Ivo looked at her a moment and then burst into melodic laughter.

"Well, once you've actually gone to class at Durmstrang," he said chuckling, "I think your answer will change."

He busied himself draping fabric over her frame and using his wand to cut, tack, and hem the robes until everything was certain to fit her like a glove. She could tell he was flirting with her sometimes, because he would get red in the face, and step away, making sure to keep his distance and only use his wand to do the work. Ginny found he was easy to talk to, and hoped that his sixth-year-sister was as nice, especially if they were potential house-mates.

Ginny's fur-lined cap and cloak were the last to be finished, Ivo having expertly used real fur from the soft, clean animal skins hanging in the corner. He took all of her new clothes to the counter, where she handed him her coin-filled pouch, while he got out a roll of brown paper. He brandished his wand and muttered "Ligare forma," which caused the paper to unroll itself from its spool and wrap itself neatly around Ginny's new clothes. Ivo then summoned a spool of white twine which he used to tie up her brown-paper parcels. Shrinking them down to a more manageable size and shape, he handed the stack of packages to Ginny, and turned to go into the back room of the store. But before he left, he paused in the doorway and said,

"Oh, and I didn't catch your name…"

"Oh," Ginny said, startled. "I must not have mentioned it. Sorry. It's Imogene. Imogene Wells."

She took a deep breath.

"But you can call me Ginny."

Ivo's face broke into a smile.

"Ginny," he said, repeating the name. "Ginny Wells. That's a name I'll remember. I've heard lots about your family."

Ginny hoped the packages hid the flush that was creeping up her cheeks. That was the trouble with being associated by name to a family she knew nothing about. She _really_ hoped he didn't ask her any more questions.

To her relief, he didn't.

"Well, I hope I'll be seeing you around school, then," he said instead, blushing again.

"That would be nice," Ginny agreed. "Have a nice day!"

Ivo smiled at her and nodded.

"You, too," he said.

He stared at her awkwardly for a moment before nodding to himself and rushing into the back room.

Ginny giggled inwardly at his behaviour, and headed toward the door. The packages weren't heavy now, but they were still rather cumbersome, and she was having trouble keeping them stacked, since the brown paper was so slippery. One of the packages started to slide out from the middle just as she got to the door. Unfortunately, there was someone on the other side of the door, pushing it open just as she stopped. This unlucky circumstance caused the door to hit Ginny head-on, and her parcels to scatter as she dropped all but the one she had been trying to catch in the first place.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake!" she said in embarrassed exasperation, as she bent to pick up the packages.

"Here, let me," said a masculine voice from above her.

She scooped two of the packages into her left arm and picked up a third with her right hand.

"No, I can manage just fine, thanks," she said irritably, though not impolitely as she noticed her accidental assailant's expensive black boots when she reached for another package closer to the door.

But despite her protestations, the smooth masculine voice drawled out, "It's alright, I've got this one," as he reached for the last parcel. Their hands got there at the same time, and as his fingertips brushed hers, she felt a jolt akin to what Muggles might call an "electric shock."

As soon as this feeling registered, she withdrew her hand immediately, and used it to steady the other packages as she stood, embarrassed, not wanting to make eye contact with the masculine stranger.

But as she rose to take her last package from the person now offering it to her, she knew that eventual eye contact was unavoidable. So she lifted her head and gasped as she found herself looking up into the smug face of none other than Draco Malfoy.


	6. Little Winds and Whispers

**Disclaimer: The only place I own Harry Potter (or the characters and settings of his magical world) is in my dreams. They all actually belong to J.K. Rowling, as if you didn't know.**

Ginny reached out a hand to take the last parcel from Malfoy. His eyes never left hers as she tucked the package in with the others in her left arm. She was completely speechless. This could blow everything! She decidedly didn't want to stay and talk to Malfoy or have to explain herself, so she made to leave via the door that had just knocked into her.

She already had one hand on the handle, when Malfoy said,

"May I?" and reached to open the door for her himself.

Ginny stared at him, not knowing what to make of the suspicious, calculating look he was now giving her. Was it possible that he didn't recognize her? She desperately hoped that was the case, as they were now standing gaping at each other, his hand covering hers on the door handle. But before she could regain her composure enough to break eye contact and make her way out of the shop, she heard a distant voice saying her name, which interrupted her thoughts.

"Ginny?" the voice called out. "Are you alright? I thought I heard someth – "

It was Ivo. And he had immediately stopped speaking when he appeared from behind a rack of robes to see Ginny and Draco Malfoy staring at each other. He looked at her, hurt.

Ginny quickly pulled her hand away from the door and Malfoy let it slip quietly closed, the invisible bell sounding somewhere above their heads. She looked from Malfoy to Ivo, blushing madly.

"Oh!" Ivo said in glum surprise. "I guess you two already know each other…"

Why did he have to sound so disappointed? Ginny sighed, but hoped she reacted quickly enough.

"Actually, no," she said, "We've only _just_ met – through this rather…unfortunate accident."

Malfoy now turned to look at her. Still wary, still appraising.

"I'm sorry," Ginny said courteously, "Let me introduce myself. I'm Imogene Wells."

She knew better than to hold out her hand as she said this: she didn't want to have any more physical contact with a _Malfoy_ than she had to, and explained herself by saying,

"I'd offer a hand, but I don't want to drop these again," as she indicated her packages. "And I think they've caused enough problems for today."

Ivo looked slightly more hopeful at the idea that she and Malfoy were not somehow romantically involved.

Malfoy's face, on the other hand, registered what could have been any one of several other emotions as he raised his eyebrows at her, none of which could be described as hopeful, though. Ginny couldn't quite read his expression. Was it doubt? Disbelief? She wasn't sure, but she wasn't about to allow enough time for Malfoy's silence to become rude, so she jumped in again saying to him,

"I'm a student at Durmstrang. Sixth year. And this," she said, gesturing with her head, "Is my friend Ivo. He's a student there, too. Year seven."

Ivo looked at Malfoy, clearly trying to manage a polite smile, but looking more like he was barely containing a grimace of pain. But he held out his hand for Malfoy to shake, and to Ginny's great surprise, Malfoy did just that, firmly shaking Ivo's hand and saying in his clear drawl, "Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."

Ivo let go of Malfoy's hand then, nodding.

"Actually I'm going into my seventh year, too," Malfoy spoke up suddenly. "I just came in to buy my robes for school."

Ginny couldn't believe what she'd heard. She looked at Malfoy in shock.

"Oh! Right," Ivo said, more to himself than to anyone else. "You're going to Durmstrang, too, then?"

"Yes," Malfoy said plainly, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Brilliant," Ivo said excitedly, "We hardly _ever_ get new students who aren't first years. And here we have _two_ in one year!"

He suddenly sobered, looking at Ginny, as if realizing something.

"You're taking Caralinda's place, aren't you?" he asked, more whisper than words.

Ginny stood still, not knowing what to say. Maybe they had been close friends or something? She felt awful, but after a moment, simply nodded silently.

"That must mean…" Ivo said again, looking to Malfoy this time. "You're here in place of Oscar Pemrose?"

Malfoy looked a bit uncomfortable.

"Yes," he said sullenly.

"What happened to Oscar?" Ginny asked, hoping she wasn't intruding too much. But she was suddenly aching with curiosity.

"Well…" Ivo began self-consciously, "Oscar's been missing since July. Everyone's been talking about it. His parents have absolutely no idea where he's gone off to. The rumor used to be that he'd secretly gone to join up with the Death Eaters, but I stopped paying attention to all the gossip."

Malfoy was practically squirming visibly as Ivo continued, "Anyway, he disappeared without a trace. After school let out, he made it to the train station to go home for the summer holidays. We know that much – I even said goodbye to him there myself. But apparently he never made it home. Someone said he'd snuck away for a quick goodbye snog with Zora Baranova, but between us, she was with… someone _else_ at the time." At this he blushed so brightly that Ginny thought he might faint. "Anyway, no one's seen him since then," he finished quickly.

Malfoy definitely looked uncomfortable, now, as he tried to change the subject.

"So what house are you in then?" he asked, changing the subject in a superior tone.

"Flagratti," Ivo answered proudly. "Wouldn't be in any other."

Malfoy smirked.

"Well _I'm_ in Marivalia," he said haughtily. "My father pulled strings to get me in. _He_ says it's the best there is."

Ginny felt the tension in the room mount. This could be awkward.

"Do you know what house you'll be in?" Ivo asked her to deflect Malfoy's remark. "My sister's in Ætherion. I hope you're in it, too."

Ginny had no idea which house she was in, but she was spared from any further conversation by Ivo's father storming towards them from the back room.

"Are you being paid to socialize or help customers?" he asked angrily.

"But these _are_ custo – " Ivo began, but his father cut him off.

"Get back to the counter. Now," the old man said sternly.

Ivo seemed to know better than to argue, and slowly walked back to the counter, pausing only once to look back sheepishly at Ginny and mouth "sorry," before turning and walking out of her line of sight.

The old man now turned to Ginny and Malfoy.

"Well?" he said, just as politely as when Ginny had first encountered him.

"Well, what?" Ginny ventured timidly.

"Well are you buying anything else, or are you getting out?" he asked bluntly.

Ginny tightened her hold on her packages.

"I was just leaving," she said coolly, opening the door to go.

Malfoy, who had been so passive this whole time said, "Good day, then, Miss _Wells_. See you at school."

Ginny froze and looked at him over her shoulder. Something about his inflection implied that he may indeed have recognized her. She only hoped he would somehow keep his mouth shut and not blow her cover. She nodded curtly at him, before stepping outside, the chilly air there cooling her flushed cheeks as she set off toward Solomon and whomever he was meeting at the pub.

X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X

It was nearly noon by the time Ginny turned onto Crescent Way, and came in sight of the dirty pub, across from the old wooden arch at the entrance to the train station. And as she stepped to the door of the Larvalis, she began to realize just how hungry she was. Breakfast seemed like it had been ages ago. And all the strange and unexpected encounters she'd already had this morning had driven her to work up quite an appetite.

She used the sleeve of her robe to cover her hand when she opened the door because the handle was completely filthy. The door creaked loudly, and was so heavy, Ginny had just made it through before it slammed shut behind her. No one seemed to notice the noise, however, because the din of conversation was quite overpowering.

Ginny looked around for Solomon Crowbeam, and finally spotted him seated at a booth near the back. He was leaning forward over the table, facing in Ginny's direction, deep in conversation with an older wizard in robes of deep indigo. She couldn't see this other wizard's face, but she could tell that he had a bald spot forming on the crown of his head, amongst his already thinning grey hair.

As Ginny got closer to the table, Solomon looked up and stopped talking. He stood with a sweep of his robes, his hand swinging out to invite her to take the seat closest the window. As she came around to the other side of his lunch-mate, she saw that it was the wizard who had been taking tickets at the train station earlier. Ginny was shocked, but contained her surprise and said nothing as she slid into her seat, making room on the bench for Crowbeam to resume his own position nearer the aisle.

Solomon must have seen her look of surprise, for he said,

"Ginny, this is Ezekiel Pannaman. You may not have seen him as we arrived, but he works at the train station."

Ginny looked at the older man. He must have been expecting them and known who she was when she arrived. Maybe he'd even been watching for her.

"Yes," Ginny said. "I saw him."

"Good then," Crowbeam stated, "Because you'll probably be seeing a lot more of him this year. You see," he leaned forward and whispered, "Ezekiel, here, is one of my other inside contacts."

At Ginny's puzzled expression, Crowbeam continued, speaking out the corner of his mouth, his lips barely moving.

"His family owns a farm just outside the village limits – Pannaman Farm – and some of his other family members work at other businesses around town. The family has lived in these mountains for generations, and they are a well-known and respected name around here," Crowbeam explained. "He runs the train station, and his wife, Geraldine, manages the branch of Flourish and Blotts near the school."

"Oh," Ginny said, not fully comprehending why he was telling her all this.

"Anyway," Crowbeam went on, "Ezekiel will also be on the lookout for rumblings and rumors amongst out-of-town travelers. So you see, you'll be the eyes and ears inside the school, while he's the eyes and ears in town. And if you ever need anything which distance prevents your parents or me from providing, Ezekiel will be there for you. Kind of like your guardian. You can go to him for anything, understand?"

Ginny swallowed.

"Umm…okay," she said quietly. "Great. Sure."

She looked back at the older wizard across the table from her. He had bright, joyfully green eyes; coarse, bushy eyebrows, which rather hung over into his eyes; and thin lips drawn into a small smile. He had sparse amounts of grey stubble on his chin and neck, and upon closer inspection, Ginny saw that his entire left hand, which rested beside his mug on the splintery table, was made of wood. She instantly looked away. She'd been caught staring at him once already today, and didn't want him to think she'd been brought up improperly.

"He knows your situation, Ginny," Crowbeam then said, getting her attention and looking her in the eyes, "And he will do anything to protect you."

"Umm…I was hoping I wouldn't really _need_ protecting," Ginny started in a sudden outburst of independent spirit, but Crowbeam spoke over her, "I am sure you _won't_ need any protection, but if something crops up that we haven't anticipated, the proper measures have been taken, that's all. And let me just say, I would trust Ezekiel Pannaman with my life, and I would advise you to do the same."

Ginny kept waiting for the older wizard to step in and say something, but he remained silent and observant from the other side of the table.

"Alright," she said somberly, sincerely hoping that it would never come to that.

Just then a waitress came to their table, cleaning away Solomon and Ezekiel's empty tankards.

"Can I get you anything else?" she asked sweetly, rather batting her lashes at Crowbeam.

"More of the same for Zeke and I, and perhaps a nice Butterbeer for the lady?" he said, looking at Ginny for her approval.

Ginny nodded and the waitress sniffed disdainfully at her, as though she thought Ginny beneath Crowbeam's company. But then she was off to fetch their order, her hips swaying in her clingy robes as she walked away.

Crowbeam caught Ginny's eye and she rolled her eyes at him. He and Ezekiel chuckled to themselves as the waitress returned bearing a tray with their drinks. Ginny noticed that Crowbeam and Ezekiel's mugs were large and overflowing with slightly fizzing foam. Her own order was in a small dirty glass, and as Ginny drank from it, she found it to be room temperature, and flat.

She sighed. Their waitress was no Madame Rosmerta and this was definitely nothing like the Three Broomsticks. Even the Butterbeer had an oddly unfamiliar taste… Crowbeam and Ezekiel tossed back their drinks, somehow managing not to spray foam everywhere, and slammed the mugs down at nearly the same time, Crowbeam licking his lips, Ezekiel wiping his mouth on a sleeve.

"Now on to other business," Crowbeam said, abruptly turning to look at her. "I've been given a copy of your OWL transcripts…"

As he said this he pulled out a crisply folded piece of parchment, which he smoothed out on the table. Ginny looked over his arm and saw that this was indeed an exact copy of her grades from last term:

**ORDINARY WIZARDING LEVEL RESULTS**

_**Pass Grades Fail Grades**_

OUTSTANDING (O) POOR (P)

EXCEEDS EXPECTATIONS (E) DREADFUL (D)

ACCEPTABLE (A) TROLL (T)

_Ginevra Molly Weasley has achieved:_

Astronomy E

Care of Magical Creatures O

Charms O

Defense Against the Dark Arts O

Divination P

Herbology E

History of Magic P

Potions E

Transfiguration E

When Solomon was done skimming the document, he passed it to Ezekiel, who glanced at it once, and then folded it again, pocketing it inside his dark blue robes.

"I've already gotten a chance to look over your OWL transcripts, myself," Ezekiel finally spoke, "so I know that the classes you will be taking for sure are: Charms, Potions, Transfiguration, Herbology, Defense Against the Dark Arts, History of Dark Magic, and Spellbinding."

Ezekiel's voice was kind--rich and deep and warming. Ginny couldn't help but smile at him as she asked,

"Spellbinding?"

"Er…yes," he said in rather a hushed tone. "You wouldn't have had a class like that at Hogwarts, so it'll be something of a new experience for you. But I'm sure you'll manage just fine."

Ginny looked at him, a bit worried.

"We can't really talk about it here, but that book you purchased at the Dark Exchange? It's for Spellbinding. No one really speaks about that class outside of the school, and even if I _were_ to explain it to you myself, this is neither the time," he said, looking around, "nor the place..." he finished quietly.

Ginny felt chilled, though the air in the pub was warm.

"Oh, er…okay," she said, concerned.

"Suffice it to say, that Solomon, here, is the only one who could have bought that book for you. It's been out of print for years and can only be purchased secondhand. But even then, you have to know where to go. It's all about the connections here. Who you know. You have to be careful what you say, and to whom you say it. That's one thing you'll quickly learn," Ezekiel said in an intense whisper.

Ginny had to lean her head forward to catch the last part of what Ezekiel said, but leaned back again when Solomon said, "Yes. We've already discussed it, but I can't stress enough how cautious you must be. And as for the book, don't take it out of school grounds once classes start. It's been banned in some places, and not the kind of thing you'd want to be caught with in public. You'd certainly never see a book like that at Hogwarts; as a matter of fact," he said, lowering his voice again, "It was Dumbledore who petitioned the book's publishers to discontinue that edition."

Ginny stared at Solomon, her nerves on edge. She didn't think she could handle many more big surprises today. But luckily, Crowbeam seemed to sense this for he changed the direction of the conversation and said instead,

"And you will also have the option of taking an elective class or two on Saturdays." His voice was now back to a normal volume. "But this is not required."

"An elective class? Like what?" Ginny asked, unsure of what he meant. And why would _anyone_, excluding Hermione, want to take extra classes?

"Well there are optional classes offered that students may elect to take on their own time. Some include direct magical involvement such as Apparition classes, flying lessons, Occlumency, and the like. But there are also cultural-learning electives like Magical Theory and Philosophy, music, art, dance, the study of classical literature, and even classes on etiquette," Crowbeam enlightened. "To be frank, I would advise taking at least one elective class, because I can assure you that most of the other students at Durmstrang come from families that value cultural sophistication, and I want you to fit in as being just as well-rounded as the rest of them. But in the end, it is up to you."

Ginny didn't think this sounded too unreasonable. It might even be fun. Though she rarely admitted it, even to herself, Ginny had often felt a bit superior at Hogwarts, knowing that some of the other students, pure-bloods included, had not been as well-taught at home before attending there. Molly Weasley was an excellent teacher, and was well-versed in subjects like the ones Crowbeam had just mentioned. So not only fun, it might even be _easy_. And with as much stress as she was bound to endure this term, Ginny could use an easy "O."

She grinned at Crowbeam.

"When will I get to choose my elective, sir?" she asked rather smugly.

Crowbeam had somehow anticipated her reaction, for he said, "You may choose any class you like, as long as you do so by the first day of classes. This gives you a week. Just let me know, and I can inform your new headmaster. Then you'll be scheduled and ready to go."

"What if I was ready to choose one _now_?" Ginny asked.

"Well, I'd like to think you put some thought into it," Crowbeam said strictly, though his eyes were merry, "but if you already know what you want…"

"I believe I do," Ginny answered him.

In the short amount of time since he'd given her the option, she had considered her choices. She already knew how to fly, so she wouldn't need lessons. She had a year to go before she was of age, and so Apparition was out of the question. She'd heard enough about Occlumency to make her want to steer clear of that subject as long as possible. She could be polite enough if she put her mind to it. And she already knew she was rubbish at artsy things like music. If she were to use the knowledge her mother had given her to any advantage, there was only one clear choice.

"Classical Literature," Ginny and Crowbeam said at the same time.

Crowbeam had said it more as a question, but Ginny was shocked just the same. How did he _do _that?

"Yes," Ginny confirmed, in feigned insult.

"Good," Crowbeam said as he passed her another piece of parchment. "Because if you'll look at your schedule, I believe you'll find, I've already signed you up for that class at nine thirty on Saturday mornings."

Ginny couldn't believe it! Was she that predictable? How had he known? This was maddening! And nine thirty on a Saturday was _early_! She harrumphed and looked at Crowbeam who obviously sensed her frustration and puzzlement, but appeared more amused at her behaviour than anything.

Ginny sighed and leaned against the high wooden back of the booth they were in, quietly sipping her lukewarm Butterbeer. She was lost in thought and only vaguely aware that Ezekiel and Solomon were still talking around her, but she snapped out of her haze when Ezekiel cleared his throat and spoke up,

"Miss Wells, am I to understand that you are as good a Quidditch player as Solomon, here, says?"

"Er," Ginny muttered. She couldn't recall ever conversing with Crowbeam about Quidditch, and didn't know how Solomon knew whether or not she was any good at it. But she decided to reply for the sake of conversation.

"Well," she started again, "I suppose I'm alright. I grew up playing in my back garden, but I've only played team Quidditch for a couple of years, now."

She could feel her cheeks colouring, but Ezekiel didn't seem to notice.

They all continued in polite discussion while Solomon and Ezekiel finished one more round of the fizzy drink with foam. Not having managed to slip it into the chat before, Ginny thought that now was as good a time as any to ask why there had to be guards posted in the village. It was one question she didn't want left unanswered before she went home.

"Why does Sangerville Crossing have a permanent guard post?" She blurted out. She hadn't meant to be so blunt.

Ezekiel and Crowbeam looked at each other, then started to chuckle. Ginny realized they were probably laughing at the way her question had just burst forth, so she tried to cover by saying, "What I mean is, is the village really so dangerous that it needs a guard on duty at all times? I don't really fancy living somewhere that dodgy."

"On the contrary, Miss Wells," Ezekiel said genially as he stood, leaving a tip on the table near his empty mug, "having a guard on duty at all times ensures that you will be _more_ secure – not less – at all times. You have absolutely nothing to worry about."

Ginny didn't push the issue as they all pulled on their cloaks and headed for the door.

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When Ginny returned home that evening, her parents were in the sitting room awaiting her arrival. She had traveled alone this time, and stepped into the room by herself, dusting the excess Floo powder and soot from her hands and robes.

"Well?" her mother asked anxiously.

"Well what?" Ginny answered back.

"Well, how did it go? Tell us everything!" her mother frantically insisted.

Ginny sighed and told them about the entire excursion, leaving out bits here and there that would detract from her worried parents' peace of mind. When she finished relating her tale, they seemed surprisingly calm, looking at her as though she were an adult, and an equal.

"We're so proud of you Gin," her father said. "I honestly had my doubts when Crowbeam first approached your mother and me with the idea. But I really think you handled yourself well today, and, well, I think this is definitely something you can manage. I just want you to know that we believe in you."

At this, her father stood and walked out of the room. Ginny knew he was a sensitive man, and that he had excused himself from the room not out of anger, but perhaps to save face.

He mother also stood, then, and put an arm around Ginny's shoulder.

"Come on, dear," her mother said as she escorted Ginny into the kitchen. "Have something to eat for supper. I made Alpha-Rune soup. With no onions. Just the way you like."

Ginny smiled at her mother as she sat down at the table. Her mother hummed as she summoned a bowl and spoon for Ginny, then fetched the pot of soup. She expertly poured the soup into Ginny's bowl in a perfect, steamy stream of noodles and golden broth. Ginny had still not managed to perform household magic with such ease, which somehow only served to make her smile more.

When she had finished getting Ginny her meal, Molly Weasley left the kitchen in search of her husband and Ginny was left alone to finish eating.

Ginny stared down into her bowl, watching the rune-shaped noodles float across her reflection in the hot liquid. She smirked as a chunk of carrot surfaced right in the middle of her reflection's nose. Though she had much to think about school-wise, the thing that was at the forefront of her thoughts was her mysterious meeting with Draco Malfoy. She had not told her parents of the encounter. They would have been more upset than she wanted to deal with. She desperately wanted to know if he had really recognized her. And if he had, why had he not said anything? It was so frustrating. And Ivo. He couldn't have gotten so attached to her so quickly that he was really that jealous, could he? Ginny thought he seemed like a more attractive version of Neville Longbottom. Sweet, but a little awkward. He was nice, though, and Ginny supposed that if every Durmstrang student she met were as pleasant as Ivo, she'd have her year set.

After Ginny finished dinner, she cleaned up and went outside for a quick broom-ride before dark to clear her head. But what started as a quick flight, turned into a lengthy roundtrip ride around the countryside, as Ginny once again succumbed to her mind's anxious musings.

She returned home well after her normal bedtime to find both her parents asleep. Ginny considered herself a naturally nocturnal person, but just could not bring herself to stay up any longer. She was simply exhausted. She got ready for bed and laid out her clothes for the next day. She would be accompanying her parents this time to Diagon Alley to collect the rest of her school requirements.

Her brown-wrapped packages of uniforms were stacked in a pile in the bottom left corner of her old wardrobe, and her battered Spellbinding book was on the very bottom of the stack, clearly visible through the wardrobe's open doors.

Ginny looked over at the pile as she rested her head on her pillow. As she slowly closed her eyes, she could suddenly think of nothing but the old book across the room. She squeezed her eyes shut and willed sleep to possess her. But to no avail. Her mind simply would not let her rest until she looked at the book once more.

She had only glanced at it previously. And since she wasn't the Hermione Granger type, she wasn't about to read her school books before she was instructed to.

Ginny sighed loudly and forced her body to move toward the wardrobe. She carefully pulled the book from the bottom of the stack and looked at the front cover. It was made of wine-coloured leather so old, Ginny could tell it had been worn to softness and then hardened again by age. The cracked spine was held together by just a few thick threads, and perhaps magic, nothing more. The lettering was no longer visible at all, and Ginny supposed people only knew what it was called because they had been told. She flipped through some pages at the front of the book, not stopping anywhere in particular, just looking at the faint black ink. The book seemed to be hand-written! Even buying her books second-hand, Ginny had never bought a _school-book_ that was written by hand. The only books she had seen that were this old had been in the Restricted Section at the Hogwarts library.

Ginny was too tired to actually try and decipher the handwriting tonight, but on a sudden whim, she opened the book to the very fist page and looked at the name sloppily scribbled on the inside of the front cover. The ink had faded a bit, and the page was yellowed, but the name was unmistakable: _Solomon Crowbeam_.


	7. With a Flourish

**Disclaimer: The only place I own Harry Potter (or the characters and settings of his magical world) is in my dreams. They all actually belong to J.K. Rowling, as if you didn't know.**

Ginny and her parents stepped one at a time out of the fireplace that had chucked them into the bustling heart of Diagon Alley. Dusting herself off as she moved, Ginny had to hurry to keep up with her parents, who had stepped into the correct current of foot-traffic. She herself had somehow managed to get stuck in a tide which pulled her away from her destination: Flourish and Blotts.

She caught up with them just outside the doors of the large bookstore. Once inside, Ginny reveled in the quieter atmosphere of the shop and turned right, making her way with her parents to an out-of-the-way reading nook in front of one of the larger display windows. They needed to go over the plan.

"So you'll both go after all of the books required on my school list," Ginny stated, a little in exasperation, knowing they had been over this a full four times before now.

"Yes," Molly Weasley said, eyeing her husband, who had become a bit preoccupied by a How-To book with moving diagrams on building Muggle unicycles.

"Good," said Ginny. Her parents were both going after these books because they could be found in many different sections of the store, and they might have to split up to find them all.

"And you'll be in the Classical Literature section, gathering texts for a class I _so_ wish I had been able to take in my school-days," Ginny's mother said, a wistful gleam in her eye.

Ginny rolled her eyes.

"Yes," she said, looking at the ceiling, and not at her mother, who was still muttering something about lost opportunities. "Can we just _go_, now? We'll never find any of these if we don't start looking. I want to be home before dinner!"

And with that, Ginny left her parents in the reading nook as she ploughed her way through a group of what looked like first-year Hogwarts students. She passed through sections including books about Troll, Goblin, and Elven History, Muggle Fashion, and Wizarding Biographies before coming to stop in between two rows of bookshelves containing Classical Wizarding Literature.

She took a deep breath and pulled out the list Solomon had given her which stated the titles of the books she would be studying over the course of the fall term:

_**CLASSICAL LITERATURE:**_

_**Fall Term:**_

_War of the Wands: a modern epic thriller__ by Hugh Hornbridge_

_The Palace of Balthazar Moon__ by Miriam D. Tapscott_

_The Brothers Sinclair (trilogy)__ by Emory Doddings, Jr._

_- Book 1: The Journeying Stone_

_- Book 2: Nightfall_

_- Book 3: Kings and Kingdoms_

_The Half-Blood and the Mermaid__ by Sir Richard Blake_

_The Sonnets of Thessalonius Thimbletree__ compiled by Candace Harvin_

_**Spring Term:**_

_Wands and Cauldrons__ by Gloria Japes_

_Of Love and Magic__ by Gustav the Grim, translated by Trudy and Edwin Short_

_The Last Duel of Aepelwulf the Conqueror__ by Hyrum Treywick_

_The Dementor's Kiss: A Love Story__ by Phrynia Glendower_

_The Complete Works of Malecrit, Unabridged__ collected by Pamela Peerless_

Ginny would only be purchasing the books for fall term now. She could buy her books for spring term at the Flourish and Blotts branch in Sangerville Crossing over the winter holidays. Also, she had never had so many books to take to school, and she was already going to have to ask her mother to perform an enlarging charm on her trunk just to get all her other school things to fit.

As Ginny reached above her to pull _War of the Wands _down from the second highest shelf, she felt the weight of her sack of gold Galleons shift in an inner pocket of her robes. Even if it was all on the Ministry's dime, this would be the first time in her life she'd actually be paying full price for all-new books. She smiled at that thought. She would now, finally, have a really good feeling to go along with the memory of this store. She'd always liked books and book stores, but ever since Lucius Malfoy had slipped her a cursed diary here, she'd been a bit wary of going in it again. In fact, this was also the first time she'd been browsing the store without her parents nearby.

By now Ginny had found all the books she needed this term except for one. _The Palace of Balthazar Moon_ didn't seem to be on any of these shelves. She looked up to the last shelf on the right, which held books with author's names beginning with "P through R." Ginny needed "T" for Tapscott. She turned around the corner and immediately ran face-first into what she first thought must have been some kind of traveling bookcase, it was so hard. What she actually ran into was much worse. The solid, Quidditch-player's chest of Draco Malfoy.

Ginny knew it was him before she even looked up to see his face. She could just tell. Blushing madly, she resolutely took two slow steps backward, still without looking at him.

"Oh, excuse me," she managed to breath, wishing there were someplace to hide. Not only had she run into the person she least wanted to see again (except perhaps Lord Voldemort himself), but she was here with her parents. And if Malfoy hadn't made the connection before about her real identity, he certainly would now. He may be foul and loathsome, but he wasn't really _that_ dim-witted.

Ginny tried to think fast. She probably _could _buy that last book in Sangerville Crossing once school started. She didn't wait another moment before tightening her arms around the books she'd already found, and sprinting to the front of the store to buy them and get out before Malfoy could even open his mouth to speak. She didn't want her parents to see her either, because they would probably ask what was wrong, and want to know why she left without buying one of her required texts, and she just didn't want to deal with that right now.

After sneakily snaking her way through the store, while still managing to avoid her parents and Malfoy, Ginny made it to the front where the queue to pay began. The line split into two as it reached the counter, and as she got closer, she realized that Malfoy had somehow made it there before her and was waiting for her. Well, not really waiting for her so much as buying his own books at the register at the front of the other line. But before Ginny could turn and run back through the store to escape him again, Malfoy half-turned, and she saw him peer out of the corner of his eyes at her. Then he had the nerve to smirk!

She knew she'd been spotted, so now she just _couldn't_ be so cowardly as to run away again. She had to be stubborn, and stepped determinedly into place at the end of the line that branched off next to Malfoy's.

As Ginny waited behind an old witch carrying a thick volume entitled _Kama Sutra for the Elderly_, the line moved up, making it possible to see over the old witch's shoulder and so she watched as a sales witch packaged Malfoy's purchases. Watching her carefully, but quickly, wrap the books in brown paper packaging, Ginny realized that some of Malfoy's purchases included books that she herself was holding at that very moment. Her heart sank. She now knew that A) Malfoy not only knew who she really was, but also B) they must be taking the same elective class. So even if he somehow didn't blow her cover, it would still be a very long year.

As Ginny watched, Malfoy finished paying and disappeared, leaving her flustered and frustrated. Soon enough, it was her turn to step to the counter and buy her books. She couldn't see her parents behind her in the queue anywhere. She sighed and stepped forward, dumping her books on the shiny wooden countertop. The sales witch was trying to make conversation with Ginny as she calculated the total cost of Ginny's books, but Ginny wasn't paying any attention. She just wanted to get home as fast as possible to think a way out of what could potentially be a really big mess.

The sales witch read Ginny the total, and Ginny reached for the inside pocket of her robes. But before she could withdraw the pouch containing her Ministry gold, a full pouch of Galleons fell onto the counter in front of her, along with a copy of _The Palace of Balthazar Moon_. Ginny's mouth dropped open.

"I've got this one covered," Malfoy said genially to the witch behind the counter.

Ginny couldn't help it. She actually looked up and stared straight at Malfoy, still open-mouthed.

"Oh, and I think you forgot to count this one," he spoke again, pointing to the book.

_So he hadn't really left the store. But what was he doing? _Ginny couldn't help but wonder.

She could feel the heat in her face which surely meant that she was blushing again.

The sales witch looked at Ginny as if to ask her approval to add the book's cost to her previous total, eyeing Malfoy's pouch of gold in the process. Ginny stared blankly, unresponsively back, but finally willed her shoulders to shrug in sort of silent surrender. The witch must have taken that to mean "yes," because she scooped Malfoy's pouch of the counter and shoved Ginny's newly-wrapped packages towards her with a sort of half-smile.

Ginny took the wrapped books and turned to thank Malfoy, or at least yell at him (she hadn't yet decided which was the better option); but when she looked around her, he was gone.

Ginny dazedly walked out of the store and sat on a bench outside, waiting for her parents to appear. She was infuriated and yet, confused. What could possibly have possessed Malfoy to pay for her books? And how had he gotten around the store so fast? She supposed he must have Apparated, since he was now most likely of age.

As Ginny sat and ruminated about these things, her parents came out of the shop and spotted her sitting there brooding. Ginny's mother could tell she was in a bad mood and decided not to press her for answers until they were somewhere a little less public.

Ginny and her mother stopped in at Fred and George's store briefly, while her father paid a bill somewhere. Ginny had really had enough of Fred and George's pranks from living with them, but they managed to talk her into buying a magical freckle-concealer and a subscription to their monthly newsletter, which came with the free gift of one of their Patented Daydream Charms. It was somehow much easier to be talked into buying things she didn't need when she remembered that she had a full pouch of Galleons in her pocket. She just didn't let her mother see what she'd gotten.

When her father came to meet them at the store shortly before dinner, Ginny found that he hadn't just been off paying a bill. He'd bought her an owl! A snowy owl, much like Hedwig. Ginny ran to her father and threw her arms around him, careful not to disturb the cage carrying her new gift.

"Er," her father said a bit awkwardly. "We just wanted to make sure you had a guaranteed method of communication. We got the snowy owl because we figured it would be best for long-distance flying in," he lowered his voice, "_colder weather_."

"Thanks, dad," Ginny said sincerely. "Really. This is just great!"

"Anything to make sure we stay in contact, dear," Molly said, coming up behind her.

And then all thoughts of the Malfoy dilemma left Ginny's mind as one thought entered and pushed all others aside: She loved her family.

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	8. A Sorted Affair

Disclaimer: The only place I own Harry Potter (or the characters and settings of his magical world) is in my dreams

**Disclaimer: The only place I own Harry Potter (or the characters and settings of his magical world) is in my dreams. They all actually belong to J.K. Rowling, as if you didn't know.**

She had named him Nemglan, after the mythological bird famous for its beautiful plumage. Nemglan was the best fitting name she could think of – for with his glossy, perfect feathers, he really was the most striking bird she'd ever seen. Up close, he even put Hedwig to shame. Ginny felt the human/bird connection immediately – before she'd even gotten the stunning fowl home. In her heart, she felt this must be how owls and wizards were meant to react to each other. Almost like with a witch and her wand; a bond was formed from the moment she took ownership of the marvelous creature. But not really _ownership_, as she felt she could never truly possess a creature so wild, especially after seeing the piercing light of intelligence glowing from his amber eyes. More like a partnership, really. And Ginny could hardly contain her happiness.

She'd had a full week to prepare for her trip to school: gathering everything she could remember, packing things away, and putting up with tedious lectures on expected behaviour from her mother. If she were really being honest with herself, she would admit she was glad to go. Other than her parents, she was the only other person staying at the Burrow, now that Bill and Fleur had moved out. She had no one with whom she could freely speak about her current, unusual circumstances. And if she were going to Hogwarts it would probably be the same. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were off gallivanting around to who-knows-where, and Ginny had to face the facts that, aside from Luna and Neville, and perhaps a few others, she would feel just as alone at Hogwarts as she had for this last stretch of summer.

As a matter of fact, when Friday arrived, Ginny found she had grown restless with anticipation. Yes, the feeling was definitely identified as anticipation – not the cold sense of dread and doom she had expected herself to feel at the moment of her departure. She was actually beginning to feel quite excited. _A new school and a new name?_ She would be able to completely re-invent herself. Well, not her real self so much as her outer image. She would be able to escape the stereotypes she'd been labeled with at Hogwarts. It was almost a relief, really. At Durmstrang, no one would have to know that her family was nearly dirt-poor. No one would have to know that she was a "blood-traitor." And there would be no dirty looks, whispering behind backs, or dangerous pranks played on her for who she was dating, because no one would ever have to know that she had any affiliation with Harry Potter, The Boy-Who-Lived.

Except for Malfoy.

Ginny's bubble of happiness temporarily burst. Malfoy. He was always entering her thoughts at the most inopportune times – always encroaching on her ponderings, dampening her, well, excitement, in this case.

Over the past week, Ginny had also had ample time to give the Malfoy situation plenty of thought. He hadn't blown the whistle on her so far, so maybe he wouldn't at all. But then that meant he probably had some kind of ulterior motive. It was the only possible explanation. The whole circumstance irritated her to no end. Especially since she just couldn't figure out _why?_ Why Malfoy? Why Durmstrang? And why, oh, why, did he have to be in the same _class_ as she? 

Ginny tried to put it all out of her mind. She'd had enough to think about all week: Ivo, Crowbeam, Malfoy, Horcruxes, Harry, her family, school, Malfoy. It just didn't seem to end.

She was almost grateful when her mother interrupted her thoughts of frustration by yelling up the stairs.

"Ginny! Stop dawdling this instant and come have your breakfast! It isn't good to travel long distances on an empty stomach!"

Ginny smiled. Nagging was one thing she didn't think she would terribly mind going without for the school year.

"Coming!" she yelled back down in response.

Ginny looked at the clock on her desk and saw that it was just before eight. She'd gotten up early to do some final packing, and since she was nearly finished, she decided she could spare a few minutes to gobble down some sustenance before the nerves got to her.

She ran down the steps, taking two at a time, and bounded into the kitchen. Sliding into a chair at the table, she smiled in such a way as to convey to her mother that she was in a great hurry.

"Took you long enough," her mother chided.

Ginny could see her mother was more nervous than she was. Molly was absentmindedly cleaning and re-cleaning glasses by hand with a rag – a habit Ginny knew to be associated with anxious, uneasy waiting and worrying.

"Sorry," Ginny mumbled, reaching for a piece of toast.

"Are you completely packed?" her mother asked.

"Not quite," was Ginny's reply.

"But dear, you _know_ you have to leave before nine-thirty or you'll never get to the school by ten!" Molly said, nearly panicking.

"Relax, mum!" Ginny said through a full mouth. "I'm _nearly_ ready. So stop worrying about it or you'll set _me_ on edge, too."

Her mother put down the glass she was holding with a quiet, but firmly resounding _thunk_.

"I'm sorry, dear," her mother spoke, fixing Ginny in a steady, serious gaze. "But sometimes I get the feeling that you're not worried _enough_. This is such a severely important task you've been assigned, and things won't go as smoothly if you're not completely prepared and aware and dedicated to putting in your every effort."

Ginny hated when her mother scolded her, especially since she was right. Ginny _had _been a bit pre-occupied with thinking about certain other events that had taken place so recently.

"I'm sorry, mum," Ginny said, soberly. "I won't let it happen at school. I promise. I'll do my very best to concentrate on the task at hand. And I won't let you and dad down."

Ginny's mother simply stared at her a moment before rushing over and throwing her arms around Ginny's slim frame, crushing her in a motherly embrace.

"I know, dear, I know," her mother said over the top of her head.

Ginny hugged her mother back, figuring the sooner she gave in, the sooner she could escape back to her room to finish packing.

After releasing Ginny from her grip, Molly pulled back and held her daughter at arms' length.

"I'm so proud of you," she said, "you've no idea just how much."

"I know mum," Ginny said quietly. She could tell her mother was about to get weepy, so she broke the moment by saying, "Well, I've got a few more things to pack. Don't want to be late."

"Oh, yes, dear," her mother said, once again picking up the glass and cleaning cloth. "You'd better hurry."

Ginny gave her mother a small smile before hastening off to her bedroom to desperately pack all that was left.

X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X

Ginny gave her bedroom a last going-over, trying to figure out if she'd forgotten anything. Her trunk was sitting just outside her door, filled to bursting with all her school supplies: uniforms, spell books, potions kit, spare quills and parchment, extra boxes of owl treats. In a last-minute decision, she even packed the shimmering gold dress robes she had worn at Fleur's wedding, though she didn't know when she would ever find occasion to wear them. Thus, dressed in her new crimson robes and heavy black cloak, with wand in hand, trunk and owl cage in tow, and a half-full sack of Galleons left over from the week before weighing down an inner pocket, Ginny put on the little moke-skin pouch containing her two-way mirror, letting it fall heavily against her chest beneath her robes. She took a deep breath. This was it.

Entering the living room, where her parents both stood waiting to say goodbye, Ginny took out the brown-paper envelope containing her acceptance letter. Grasping it firmly in her left hand, she braced herself for the uncomfortable feeling she knew would come when the Portkey was activated. It was almost nine-thirty and she would be whisked away to her future any minute now.

Ginny's mother took her hand briefly, silently, and Ginny gave it a reassuring squeeze, letting go just in time for her to feel a familiar tug somewhere in the vicinity of her navel. Tightly closing her eyes, she forced herself to relax into the swirling feeling of this traveling method, keeping a solid grip on her belongings until she came to a sudden, lurching halt. Ginny opened her eyes slowly, reveling in the fact that she was still standing on her own two feet. She'd made it.

Looking around, she saw that she'd arrived just outside of Sangerville Crossing. In fact, she was standing just across the road from Flourish and Blotts, which she knew to be the last building on the side of the village closest to the school. To her right was what appeared to be a large pedestal, with a flat, glossy surface that seemed to be lit from within. It was a map of the entire village. And a big, glowing red star flashed at her, above which were printed the words "YOU ARE HERE." 

Ginny didn't see anybody else around, so she looked at the map to know where to go. Starting at the glowing red star, she traced the road leading in the direction of the school with her finger. It seemed simple enough. And as she set off on foot, she became aware of other students arriving by Portkey on either side of her all along the road to the school grounds. These students obviously knew each other, and by the time she could see where the road ended, she was surrounded by laughing, talking boys and girls, in identical uniforms and cloaks.

Where the road ended and the grounds of the school began, a queue was forming. At the front of this line stood a burly man in black robes next to a large mahogany desk. Ginny thought it strange for a desk to just be sitting out in the middle of nowhere, being subject to the elements, but none of the students around her reacted to the sight of it, so she bit back her questions and joined the queue.

As she watched and waited in line, she saw that the man was giving each student some kind of potion to drink, which was bubbling in a large cauldron set up on the grass beside the desk. After quickly gulping down the fizzy blue liquid the students proceeded to enter the grounds.

She was still pretty far back in the queue when she heard someone calling her name.

"Ginny!"

It was a male voice.

She didn't turn around. Her heart skipped a beat, though, and all she could think was _Please don't be Malfoy…Please don't be Malfoy._

She felt a hand on her shoulder and spun around to see Ivo grinning at her.

"You made it!" he exclaimed joyfully.

"Yeah, I did," Ginny said. She felt stupid. As if Malfoy would ever have come running up to her on the first day of classes. But she was relieved to see Ivo's friendly face.

"How was the trip? How was the rest of your summer?" Ivo inquired.

"Oh, pretty good," Ginny said, adjusting to the fact that she was no longer alone. "What's that potion everyone is taking up there?"

"Oh, that," Ivo said, still grinning. "Of course you probably wouldn't know about that since you're new. It's what let's us onto school property."

"What do you mean?" Ginny asked.

"Well, it's not too complicated to explain. You see, there are invisible wards protecting the school grounds at all times. By drinking that potion – once it's in your blood stream, that is – you'll be able to come and go as often as you like for one year."

"You mean I wouldn't even be able to set foot on school grounds without having that potion in me?"

"Exactly," Ivo said pleasantly. "Oh! And it works the same way for the house common rooms, too. Once you get in the school, you take a potion that allows you to enter your own house. It's also how sixth and seventh years get into the library's Restricted section. We've only been using this system for a few years, but it really cuts down on intrusions. And there are no passwords to remember. Just a one-time potion at the beginning of each school year and you're set."

"Wow," Ginny said. "That's pretty impressive."

But she couldn't help but notice the resemblance of this system to the barrier that had been placed on the stairs to the Astronomy tower during a deadly fight at Hogwarts just months before. How only those with the Dark Mark could pass through it. She suddenly shivered.

"Is something wrong?" Ivo asked, concern showing on his face.

"Oh, no," Ginny said, snapping out of it. "I guess I'm just a bit nervous. That's all."

"Well don't be. I'm sure you'll make lots of friends in no time."

Ginny only hoped that would be the case.

By now, the line had moved up far enough for Ginny and Ivo to be issued their entrance potion. The broad-shouldered man in the dark robes and black cloak handed them each a flask with the bubbling blue potion in it. The liquid was making fizzy little popping sounds, and was the shade of dark ocean water. Ivo tossed it back without hesitation as Ginny watched. Following his example she drank hers as well, discovering why he had tossed his back so quickly. It tasted awful. Ginny scrunched up her face, as she handed the flask back to the surly man at the desk, who took it from her without a word. She had to swallow several more times before the taste left her mouth and when she looked up, she could see Ivo waiting for her, biting back laughter.

"I guess I forgot to tell you about the taste," he said, laughter dripping from every word. "Sorry."

"It's ok," Ginny said calmly. "It's only a one-time potion, after all."

The pair made their way across a long stretch of grassy hill surrounded on both sides by tall, foreboding evergreens. Soon they rounded a bend in what was essentially an acres-wide clearing in the Siberian forest. Once the curve of grass took them around the farthest clump of trees, Ginny caught her first glimpse of the castle housing her new school.

It was immediately obvious to Ginny that the school could not have been built without magic. Durmstrang was made entirely out of the solid rock of a mountain. In fact, it seemed that Durmstrang _was_ the mountain. It had somehow been carved right into the side of the stone mount. Four stories of imposing rock-solid battlements, windows, curving turrets – it was all there: a magnificent, stony work of wonder.

Ginny choked back a small gasp, and headed down the hill with Ivo to the enormous front doors at the foot of the mountain. Ahead of her, some of the younger students were running down the hill, cloaks billowing behind them, trunks leaving a gouged trail of divots in their wake.

Ginny and Ivo walked more slowly until they reached the double doors. They were the only thing about the castle's exterior not made entirely of stone. They were thick, unyielding wood, towering above Ginny and Ivo's heads; vast in expanse and somber in colour.

Ginny and Ivo walked through them together, following a steady stream of cloaked students and cold air. Once they crossed the threshold, Ginny saw that they were in a large atrium-like hall. Doors and hallways branched off in every direction, and at the farthest end opposite where they now stood, was a grand staircase which divided into two as it met the wall – one curving more to the right, one to the left. It was wide, but even then, it was difficult to accommodate the mad rush of students hurrying off to find their rooms.

As Ginny watched the commotion, she heard an adult's voice behind her.

"Miss Wells?"

Ginny's heart thumped loudly in her chest. Slowly turning, she found she was facing a slim, but powerful-looking wizard in crimson robes, the same colour as hers, but more elaborately decorated. He was wearing a pointed crimson wizard's hat, and had intense dark eyes, which twinkled beneath bushy black brows and above a slightly crooked nose. The man had rather thin lips, but ruddy cheeks, and a black moustache which transitioned seamlessly into a closely cropped beard.

"Yes?" Ginny said, only a hint of the nervousness she was feeling coming through in her voice.

The man smiled. His teeth were pearly and straight.

"My name is Magister Nycroft, and I am to take you to your welcoming appointment with the Headmaster, after which you will be shown to your dormitory."

"Oh, well thank you," Ginny said breathily.

"It is duty, but also a pleasure," Magister Nycroft replied, a soft twinkle in his eye.

"I'll catch up with you later, at the Opening Feast," Ivo said, heading off to the grand staircase.

"Okay," Ginny called after him. "See you then!"

"Please follow me," Magister Nycroft said, turning on his heel. "You may leave your trunk and owl. An elf will take them to your room."

Wordlessly, Ginny followed as he led her down a wood-paneled hallway to the left of the entrance hall. There were no students in this dimly lit passage, which was lined with portraits of witches and wizards who, Ginny assumed, must have been previous teachers or Headmasters, for they all wore the same heavily embroidered crimson robes, like what Magister Nycroft now wore.

As they walked down the long hallway, Nycroft suddenly spoke.

"You may have heard about the death of our former Headmaster, Igor Karkaroff."

"Yes, I've heard," Ginny replied, trying to keep up with Nycroft's longer strides.

"Yes, very unfortunate," Nycroft said, though Ginny got the feeling he didn't really think it was unfortunate at all. "He has now been replaced by our new Headmaster, whose name you may have encountered before."

Ginny looked at him, puzzled.

"He's a well-known author who's been widely published. Vindictus Viridian. Ah, yes, I see you've heard the name."

Ginny had indeed come across the name before. He'd written several books her brothers had used in researching some of their more dangerous pranks. She chose to keep this thought to herself.

They soon came to a stop outside a dark wooden door. Magister Nycroft rapped once on the fine wood, and a deep voice from within replied, "Enter."

Nycroft opened the door to what Ginny recognized as the Headmaster's office. The room sported a large desk facing the doorway, shelves upon shelves of books and other manuscripts, more portraits of previous Heads, and a fireplace with no fire, above which there was a wide mantel displaying several delicate silver instruments. There was a man in crimson robes behind the desk who rose from his seat as Ginny and Nycroft stepped into the room. Still seated, across the desk from the crimson-robed man, was a student with silvery blonde hair, a pale, pointed face, and lips drawn in an indifferent line. Ginny sighed. It was Malfoy.

Upon recognizing her, Malfoy raised his eyebrows, his lips curving upwards into an unmistakable smirk.

"Very well, then, Mr. Malfoy," the man at the desk was saying. "Good luck and enjoy the term."

Malfoy stood and reached across the desk to shake the man's hand. Turning, he walked towards the door, his eyes locking silently with Ginny's for a split second before Nycroft opened the door for him and he left the room.

"Thank you, Jasper," the man behind the desk said, looking at Magister Nycroft.

Nycroft made a slight bow of his head and retreated from the office back into the dark hallway, shutting the door behind him.

"Imogene Wells," the man said, once again sitting down in the winged wooden chair behind the desk. "As I'm sure you've determined, I am Magister Viridian, the new Headmaster of this academy."

Ginny came to the realization that "Magister" must not be a name, but a title. Like how "Professor" was used at Hogwarts.

"Congratulations on your acceptance, and welcome to school!" he exclaimed jovially.

"Thank you, sir," Ginny said politely.

"Now that you're here, I'm sure there are some things you must still be wondering about," said Viridian. "What house you'll be in, for a start, yes?"

"Yes, sir," Ginny said. She didn't know if she was supposed to be giving longer answers, so she accepted that he would think her shy, and continued to answer demurely.

"There are four houses: Flagratti and Marivalia house only male students, while Sylvano and Ætherion house only girls. And now, I'm sure you're wondering how the sorting of students works at this school," he went on.

"Yes, sir," was Ginny's respectful response.

"Well, students are usually sorted in their first year," Viridian stated. "But as a student entering Durmstrang well _after_ the first year, you will not be sorted. Not exactly."

He paused and Ginny looked at him thoughtfully.

"You see, since you already fit all of the requirements needed to be accepted to this institution, the headmaster – that is to say, me – _chooses_ where he thinks you should be placed. In this instance, Caralinda Spurlin was in Sylvano, and in choosing her replacement – that is to say, you – from a directory of students on the waiting list, I have chosen who I most felt would make a good addition to that fine house. Mark my words; you are not here by mistake."

Ginny gulped. She'd been _chosen_? She didn't quite know how to react to that. She had figured she was just the next name on the list.

"A stranger to this school no longer, Miss Wells, you're new house will be Sylvano. May you embrace its members and ancient traditions, as you will be embraced by them," Viridian spoke more seriously.

"Oh, I will, sir," Ginny expressed solemnly.

"Very well then," he said, standing. "I wish you the best of luck here. Enjoy the term."

"Yes, I will, sir. Thank you, sir," Ginny said, also rising.

She smiled timidly at him before turning to the door and exiting the Headmaster's office. Magister Nycroft was waiting for her on the other side.

"I'm now to escort you to your dormitory, Miss Wells."

Ginny simply nodded in answer.

"While we walk, I shall attempt to assist you in understanding some of the rules upheld here."

"Okay," Ginny said a bit timorously. "Thanks."

"Firstly, while students in years one through four have a nine o'clock curfew, those in year five and above are allowed in the corridors until ten. This curfew is to be strictly adhered to, and the consequences for disobeying are…not pleasant"

Ginny thought that sounded reasonable enough. It was the same rule Hogwarts had.

"Fires are to be lit for magical purposes only. The school's temperature is regulated by the Headmaster at his discretion."

This one might be a little harder to cope with, Ginny mused, as they climbed the grand staircase, turning right at the top.

"From six-thirty to seven daily, there is a wash break after your last class of the day."

Ginny looked at him hesitantly as he continued.

"Dinner is always served at precisely seven o'clock. Promptness is mandatory. As it is never a casual occasion, pupils are expected to use the allotted wash break as an opportunity to change out of their class work robes and into appropriate dining attire. And also, to wash, tidy and otherwise groom themselves in such a way as to make themselves ultimately presentable."

The way Nycroft said this made Ginny think it was a speech he'd memorized.

"And what is considered appropriate attire?" she asked. And hoping not to sound rude, she added, "sir?"

"Why, the very robes you are wearing now, of course. The black robes you will wear every day for classes. The crimson robes are to be worn for dining and competition. A small step down from dress robes, really."

"Competition?" Ginny asked, as they neared the end of the long corridor on the second floor. "Like Quidditch games?"

Nycroft smiled slightly, stopping in front of another set of stairs.

"Yes, competition. Though we don't do Quidditch here, like other schools," he said, beginning the ascent to the third floor.

"No Quidditch?!" Ginny couldn't help the outburst – she was shocked! How could a school not have Quidditch?

"No, no, Miss Wells! You misunderstand me! We merely don't do Quidditch in the way many other schools do it."

Seeing her unenthusiastic face, he explained, "There's no _inter-house_ Quidditch. You see, we find that the students are more focused and more attentive to each other when they are able to unite as one _school_ for competitions, rather than indulging in petty prejudices against each other's houses over something so trivial as a _sport_."

"So there _is_ Quidditch?"

"Why, yes, of course! We play against all of the other smaller European schools in our League!" Nycroft exclaimed, stepping into the third floor corridor. "And we've taken the League Cup many times!"

He was obviously proud of this fact, as he winked when he said it.

"Do the other schools come here to play?" Ginny asked, still trying to keep up with his long-legged striding. "Or does our team travel?"

"Both. And sixth and seventh year students are allowed to accompany the team to away games – so long as they are passing enough subjects, that is."

Ginny's heart leapt a bit at the thought of possibly traveling to another school to see Quidditch.

"_And_," Nycroft went on, "Durmstrang happens to be hosting the tournament for the League Cup this spring!"

He was practically giddy telling her about this, but immediately sobered as they passed another instructor coming down the stairs at the end of the corridor. Ginny followed Magister Nycroft up this last set of stairs, which led to the fourth floor. He continued rattling off facts she ought to remember.

"Every student has a Divination Conference in year five. You'll have to make it up, of course."

"Umm, okay," Ginny said, not knowing why any instructors at this formidable school would put any faith in Professor Trelawney's chosen subject. She assumed she'd learn why later on.

"There is an indoor lake at the rear of the school. Students are not allowed in it without supervision. You'll do well to remember that. Without an adult nearby, your safety is not guaranteed."

Ginny didn't see the need to go swimming anyway, since it was Siberia, and the days were already getting shorter. But she let Nycroft continue.

"Apparition is possible, but only from another location within the school's grounds. Students are even allowed to Apparate to school, provided they are of age and have passed the test to receive a license."

"I'm not of age, yet," Ginny said, though it didn't make a difference. Nycroft kept right on talking until they reached the doorway leading to her dormitory.

"Here we are," he said coming to stop a short distance from an archway where a few first-year girls were taking their house entrance potions from a strikingly beautiful woman in crimson Magister's robes.

The woman was tall, with shiny black hair parted down the middle and pulled tightly into a low knot at the nape of her neck. She had dark, perfectly shaped eyebrows, dark eyes, and a long, straight nose. She was watching Ginny approach as she administered potion to the last first-year. She had a square jaw and the slightest hint of a dimple in her chin. When she spoke, Ginny was surprised by the very thick Russian accent.

"Imogene Wells?" she inquired, cocking her head to one side so that one of her big, gold hoop-earrings brushed her shoulder.

"Yes, ma'am," Ginny said stepping forward.

"Come here, child," the woman said thickly.

Ginny obeyed.

As the woman ladled the specified amount of potion into a cup for Ginny to drink, Magister Nycroft introduced her.

"Miss Wells, this is Magister Kasparkova, the Head of Sylvano."

"Pleased to meet you, ma'am," Ginny said, nodding. "But if you don't mind, I'd like to be called Ginny."

Magister Kasparkova gave Ginny an appraising sort of look, and then replied, "But of course," as she handed Ginny the moss-green potion to drink.

Ginny tossed it back to avoid the experience she'd had earlier with Ivo, but discovered she needn't have bothered. The aftertaste at the back of her throat was sweet, almost delightfully so.

She smiled at Magister Kasparkova as she handed her the empty cup.

"Come along, then," Kasparkova said to Ginny then, nodding at Nycroft, excusing him. She then swept an arm towards the archway leading into Sylvano House. Ginny felt a flash of warmth pass over her as she stepped under the arch and was allowed to view her new common room for the first time.

It was nothing like the Gryffindor common room she'd grown so accustomed to over the past five years. This room was _much_ bigger. From where she stood, she could see the wall ahead of her was nothing but a giant window, as was most of the wall to the left of it. The predominant colours were black, and a dark, hunter green. If it hadn't been so warm and inviting-looking, she might have thought she'd stepped into a Slytherin's common room. But as she gazed around the extensive space, she realized she would be quite comfortable here.

"This way," Magister Kasparkova was saying.

Ginny followed her to the right, around a cluster of chairs where some younger students were giggling excitedly. After passing through a gossiping group of what Ginny thought could be fifth years, she was led to a series of six hallways, separating each year's dorms. They walked past the first five and turned right down the sixth. Ginny was glad to find that this hallway was not as dark as the one leading to the Headmaster's office, nor was it as long.

There were two doors at the very end of the hall. To the left, was the door leading to the seventh year dorms, to the right, the sixth year dorms. Taking the door on the right, Ginny and Kasparkova came to stand in a long room decorated in the house colours of green and black. There were five four-poster beds in a line against the wall she now faced, each with a trunk at the foot. When they entered, all the girls already in the room stopped talking immediately to stare in her direction. Kasparkova led Ginny to the third bed. Ginny cringed. It was the one in the direct middle of the line. She hated being in the middle. It made her feel like she didn't have any privacy. She blushed, but she didn't complain. She saw that her trunk was at the foot of her bed, but Nemglan and his cage were nowhere to be seen.

"Where's my owl?" Ginny asked with concern.

"Do not worry, child," Kasparkova said heavily. "He is with all the other owls in the owlery."

"And where is that?" Ginny asked, trying not to sound like she was ungrateful for the hospitality she had already been shown.

"All of the school owls and student's owls can be found at the owlery in the post office in Sangerville Crossing, the village nearby. There is simply not enough fresh air for wild creatures within the walls of the castle. With this school being built directly into the rock, there are very few real windows. The windows in the common room? They are enchanted to look like they show the outside world. But behind the panes, it's just solid rock. This technique is used in many other places around the school. Only the windows in the front wall of the castle actually face outside. All others are enchanted imitations."

"Oh, I see," Ginny said. "Thank you for telling me."

"You'd better hurry and unpack your things," Magister Kasparkova said, "the Opening Feast will be starting soon."

And with that, Kasparkova swept out of the room, leaving Ginny alone in a roomful of strangers to collect her thoughts as she unpacked. The girl who slept in the bed to the right of Ginny's set down a copy of _Advanced Potion-Making _that she was leafing through and came over to where Ginny stood.

"Hi," said the girl, who was about Ginny's own height, since they could see eye to eye.

"Hi," Ginny said, still feeling the weight of every eye in the room on her.

"So you're the new girl," she said, smiling. Ginny could tell that this girl was genuinely friendly, and couldn't help but smiling back.

"Yeah," she said, relaxing. "Imogene Wells. But you can call me Ginny."

"Okay, Ginny," replied the girl, grinning. "I'm Persephone Graves. I'm this House's Prefect for our year. Let's introduce you to your other flatmates, now, shall we?"

"Uhh, sure," Ginny said, looking around the room at the other girls, standing silently, watching her.

"That over there," Persephone said, pointing to a curvy, heavily made-up blonde girl standing by the bed closest to the door. "That's Zora Baranova."

After being acknowledged, the girl turned without a sound back to her own unpacking, the novelty of the "new girl" no longer enough to hold her interest. Ginny had heard the name somewhere before, though she couldn't recall when or where.

"Next is Allegra Cable. Your bed-neighbour on the other side," Persephone spoke again, indicating a tall, willowy girl, with brilliant green eyes, who waved shyly when her name was mentioned.

"Hi," she said softly.

"Hi," Ginny said back.

"Last, but not least, we have the lovely Sarah Corn," Persephone emphasized the word "lovely" in a way that made Ginny feel Persephone meant just the opposite.

Sarah Corn said nothing, but scowled briefly in Ginny's direction, before promptly ignoring her in favour of unpacking her own things.

"Well, there you have it," Persephone said cheerfully. "I'm all done packing; do you need any help with your things?"

"Umm, sure," Ginny said, going over to her trunk. She had expected some cold shoulders since she was the new girl, but she hadn't expected almost half of the girls in her own dorm to be so indifferent. But Persephone, it seemed, was more than cheerful enough to counteract any bad vibes Sarah and Zora were sending in her direction.

Ginny opened her trunk and took out her brown-paper-wrapped packages of uniforms. There was an ancient-looking wardrobe across from the foot of each girl's bed, and as Ginny opened the doors to hang up her clothes, she saw that there was already a set of crimson robes hanging on the rod. She hesitated.

"Something wrong?" Persephone asked, coming over to the wardrobe herself.

"Oh," she said, wincing in awkwardness.

After first hanging up her own robes, Ginny looked over the set of crimson competition robes that had been left there. Swallowing hard, Ginny looked at the name tag inside the back of the collar. In neat, square print it said "C. Spurlin."

This angered Ginny a bit. Did they not clean out her things when they found that she'd died? How awful. Ginny didn't know what to do with the robes, so she laid them out across her new bed and continued to unpack.

She was appreciative of Persephone's help – she probably wouldn't have been ready for dinner without it. Ginny mused that if Persephone were really brainy at all, she might make a good substitute-Hermione for this term, she was so obliging and nice.

"So will you sit with me at the feast tonight?" Persephone asked.

"Sure!" was Ginny's willing response.

Persephone smiled at Ginny and Ginny smiled back. Maybe this could be the start of a great friendship, after all!

The Opening Feast was to start at seven o'clock, and Ginny was already dressed properly, so she figured she had enough time to sit and think for a minute. She took out the freckle-concealer from Fred and George's, as well as their Patented Daydream Charm, and went to put them in the little drawer of her bedside table, but inside the drawer was a ratty old book. Taking it out, and replacing it with her own things, she shut the drawer and looked the book over. It was a tan, soft-cover book with no title on the front or spine. Inside the front cover was an embossed picture of a wand with stars and printed words stating that "This journal belongs to _Caralinda M. Spurlin_."

Ginny couldn't believe it. It was so insensitive to leave a dead girl's things lying around where anyone could have at them. And yet Ginny was also a bit frightened. Ever since her encounter with a cursed diary of Lord Voldemort's, she had never touched anyone else's diary; she had even stopped keeping a journal of her own since then.

Ginny sat on the edge of her bed and placed the tattered book gently on the set of robes also laying there. She sighed. What was she supposed to do with them? Looking at the little clock on the nightstand she realized that they should be heading down for the feast. She left the diary and robes on her bed, and went with Persephone out the door.

One thing she found she liked about Durmstrang, as they went down to dinner, was that the staircases never moved. It was so much more efficient with the stairs staying in one place – no shortcuts to remember, less chance of getting lost. 

As they walked, soon joined by surges of students from other houses, Persephone made conversation by asking Ginny if she knew what classes she'd be taking.

"Charms, Potions, Herbology, Transfiguration," Ginny started, "and Spellbinding, History, and Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Ooh," Persephone cooed. "You must have done really well on your O.W.L.S. to be taking Spellbinding _and_ Defense."

Ginny looked at her, puzzled.

"You take O.W.L.S. here too?" she asked. "And is it that uncommon for someone to take both of those classes?"

"Of course! O.W.L.S. are an international grading system," she said. "And as for Spellbinding and Defense, people usually pick one or the other, it's hard to stay in the middle and do both."

"I still don't really understand," Ginny said. "Maybe I won't be able to handle taking both classes."

She really started to worry.

"Don't worry," Persephone said. "It's not like it's something no other student has ever done before. It's uncommon, but not unheard of. I figured you probably just got a really good grade in one of them."

"Well, I've never even taken Spellbinding before," Ginny said. "I didn't even know they had an O.W.L. for that."

"That's not uncommon, either. Lots of other schools don't even offer the course. What did you get in Defense?"

"An Outstanding," Ginny said reddening.

"Well there you have it, then!" Persephone cried as they reached the main-level entrance to the Dining Hall.

Ginny just blushed harder.

There were seven long tables in Durmstrang's Dining Hall and Persephone led Ginny to the second-to-last table near the back wall.

"We sit divided by year," Persephone explained.

"Oh, okay," Ginny said as they reached the table. Ginny could see the girls from her dorm scattered amongst the other sixth years already seated there. Persephone led her over to two empty seats near the back of the table, and across from some very rowdy-looking boys.

"Ignore them for now," Persephone murmured to Ginny as they sat down. "I'll introduce you later."

Ginny had hardly sat down, when the unruly boys stopped talking to gawk at her.

"Ig_nore_ them!" Persephone whispered fiercely. "They're a bunch of rude, hormonal twits, who are just surprised by the sight of fresh meat. Don't even acknowledge them!"

"Okay, _okay_!" Ginny whispered right back. She wouldn't have had time to say anything to them anyway, for the Opening Feast was about to begin: up at the staff's dais, Magister Viridian had risen to speak.

His salutatory speech was not lengthy, including a general welcome to all the new first-years. But at the end, before the food was served, he made a point of revealing to them all that there were three new students in their midst who were not in their first year.

_Three_ new students? Ginny had thought it was only herself and Malfoy.

"Miss Imogene Wells, Mr. Theodore Nott, and Mr. Draco Malfoy," Viridian declared, "will you please stand?"

Ginny was startled, as she hadn't known this would happen and looked at Persephone with anxiety, standing slowly. At the next table over, Malfoy and Nott also rose to their feet. Theodore Nott's eyes flicked over to her briefly. He'd been a student at Hogwarts, too, Ginny knew. _Ugh,_ she thought, _another Slytherin_! She hoped he wouldn't recognize her, either. She looked over at Malfoy to see if he was telling Nott what he knew about her, but he wasn't talking. Malfoy didn't glance at her at all, but scanned the hall, looking quite smug.

"Miss Wells and Masters Malfoy and Nott have transferred in this school year, and I expect that they will be treated with fairness and respect, just as you would treat any of your other classmates."

Ginny noticed heads instantaneously clustering, and then the whispering started.

"Thank you, Miss Wells. Mr. Malfoy. Mr. Nott," Viridian said warmly. "You may be seated."

Ginny plopped right down, face flushed with embarrassment. Persephone grinned at her, but Ginny paid no attention, to her, or to the rest of Viridian's speech. She wanted to go to bed, and forget about all the eyes on her. As she inattentively gazed in the direction of the staff table, she saw yet another face she recognized. Viktor Krum was sitting a few teachers from the end on her side of the hall. He _must_ have recognized her, since she'd just been singled out by the headmaster. He knew her well enough since she'd been Hermione's confidante when Hermione and Krum were dating. He could be an ally, if he kept her secret. But she supposed now was not the time to get herself noticed. In case he publicly said something to give her away, she made up her mind right then to avoid him completely until she could get him alone. She'd have to work out a plan for doing so.

The food was served, not as it was done at Hogwarts, but by small, uniformed house-elves actually carrying in platters of food. It took a bit longer, but the elves were fast and capable, so it seemed there was hardly any wait at all.

After sampling different dishes, some she'd never tasted before, or could even pronounce, desert came, and she opted not to eat anything too rich, for fear that it would unsettle her stomach. Instead she pocketed some anise seed cookies in case she got hungry later.

During desert is when Persephone chose to introduce Ginny to the other sixth years in their direct vicinity. Nikolai Daletsky was sitting to Ginny's immediate right in the last seat on their side of the table. He winked flirtatiously at her, as he popped some kind of chocolate truffle into his mouth. Ginny's eyes widened and she straight away turned back towards Persephone, who just giggled and continued with introductions.

Across the table from Nikolai, was Aleksei Baikov. Ginny was informed in hushed tones from Persephone that he was a Prefect in Flagratti House, who had a reputation for dating girls above his class. He was currently seeing Radella Bardislay, a seventh year in Ginny's own house. Next to him, and directly across from Ginny was Ellis Hinderwall, a boisterous young man with wild, dark curls and murky brown eyes that were completely unreadable as Ginny was introduced.

Sitting by Ellis was Damon Drury, the other male Prefect in their year, from Marivalia. Persephone whispered that he was one to stay away from; one of the cruelest, most ruthless people Persephone had ever met.

"And whatever you do, _don't_ get on his bad side," she warned.

Ginny didn't need telling twice.

Next to Damon was Sarah Corn, a girl named Adelaide, and Zora. Apparently they had their own little gossip-clique. Persephone didn't even need to warn Ginny for her to know that she wanted to steer clear of them as well.

Sitting beside Persephone were two girls Ginny decided she liked right from the start. Admeta Onassis and Catalina Arcos had been best friends since their first year, and good friends with Caralinda Spurlin, as well.

Ginny felt bad for them: it was one thing to replace someone academically, but to people who had known and cared about Caralinda? She felt out of place and useless. The girls didn't make her feel uncomfortable in her "new girl" status, though, quite the contrary: they were nice, and included her in their whispered chatter until desert ended.

Ginny got up, and as the four girls walked towards the double doors at the entrance to the Dining Hall, someone forcefully pushed through them, separating Ginny and Persephone for a moment. Once he'd pressed past, he turned half-around – enough for Ginny to see that it was Damon Drury – and threw a significant look at her before marching out into the Entrance hall.

Persephone looked from the doorway where Damon had been, to Ginny.

"I wonder what _that_ was all about," she mused aloud.

"I don't know," Ginny said quietly. "Did I do something during dinner to offend him?

"No, I don't think so," Persephone answered. "Forget about him. Stick with me, and he won't bother you. I hope."

Ginny raised an eyebrow. Persephone just smiled a hopeful simile and linked arms with Ginny and Admeta, pulling them along with her out the doors into the entrance hall.

Once in the sizeable hall, Ginny looked up at the large chandelier hanging from the third floor ceiling above her. Looking over the railing at her on the third floor was Damon again. As soon as he was spotted, he turned on his heal and Ginny lost sight of him.

A nervous knot formed in her stomach. She really hoped she wouldn't run into him down a dark corridor. And not sharing any classes with him would be a bonus, too, though Ginny had the feeling that it might be inevitable with a school this small.

As the girls made their way up the grand staircase, Ginny heard Ivo call out to her from below.

"Ginny! Wait up!"

Ginny and the others stopped on the second floor landing and waited for Ivo to catch up.

"So how did you like the Feast?" he asked when he reached them.

"It was fine," Ginny said. And it had been, for the most part, so Ginny didn't feel as though she was lying to him.

"Oh, good," he said eagerly. "So did you find out what house you're in?"

Ginny remembered him telling her once before that he'd hoped she would be in the same house as his sister.

"Yes," she told him. "As it turn's out, Ivo, your sister is _not_ in my house. I'm in Sylvano."

"Oh, okay," he said, though he didn't sound _too_ unhappy about it. "Well I guess this is where we part, then. Flagratti's on this floor."

"Oh, alright," Ginny said, as he started to turn away. He suddenly whipped back around, as if on impulse.

"Will I be seeing you this weekend?" he asked.

"Umm, sure," Ginny said. She didn't see any reason for him _not_ to see her this weekend. If anything, he could help her prepare herself for classes starting on Monday.

"Great," he said, delighted, his face breaking into a beaming smile. "I'll look forward to it."

"Okay, then," Ginny said ambiguously. "I guess I'll see you then. Good night."

And then he was bounding off towards his common room entrance.

Ginny turned around to Persephone and the other girls. They were gaping at her.

"What?" Ginny asked. 

"Er," Persephone began.

"_What_?" Ginny asked again. "What is it?"

"Well," Admeta said self-consciously, "Ivo's nice and everything. But he's probably going to tell all the other seventh year boys that you two have something going on or something, that's all."

"What?!" Ginny exclaimed.

"We didn't know you already knew him, or we could have warned you about that, too," Catalina offered. "Sorry."

"Oh," Ginny uttered glumly, as they headed down the corridor towards the stairs.

"Well I guess we'll be seeing you tomorrow, then," Admeta said when they reached the archway leading to Ætherion.

"Oh, right," Ginny said. "Of course. Have a good night. It was great meeting you."

"You, too."

And then it was just Ginny and Persephone off to the fourth floor.

Instead of chatting in the common room, like most of the other girls were doing, Ginny and Persephone went straight to their own room. Ginny flung herself across her bed as soon as she could, but was dismayed to find the journal and robes still there.

"Isn't there somewhere I can put these?" Ginny asked Persephone. "I feel so disrespectful flopping down on my own bed while they're here."

"Maybe you can just leave them out and the elves will collect them?" Persephone suggested.

"Maybe," Ginny said, picking up the robes and book, and laying them across the back of a chair at the far end of the room.

The other girls from their year were still out gossiping in the common room, so it was just Ginny and Persephone.

"Do you really think Ivo's so bad?" Ginny asked Persephone sincerely.

"No. He's really nice. But perhaps a little…well, not misguided really," Persephone explained. "But he's more likely than other boys to interpret your actions to mean there's some kind of romantic link. Just be careful. He's easy to lead on."

"Oh, I see," Ginny said. "Well I don't think I'll have to worry about it too much then. I'm pretty good at handling myself in situations like those. Wouldn't be the first time."

She sighed, thinking of how she'd selfishly accepted Neville's invitation to the Yule Ball in her third year at Hogwarts.

"So are you taking any elective courses this term?" Persephone asked her.

"What?" Ginny asked, waking from her contemplation. "Oh, yeah. I'm taking Classical Literature. You?"

"Yes! Me too!" Persephone squealed. "Oh I'm so glad we'll be taking at least one class together!"

Ginny grinned at her: she was glad, too.

"What do you know about that class?" Ginny asked.

"Well, Magister Pluto, the librarian is teaching it this year," Persephone said, brow furrowed. "But other than that, I can't tell you much about it. I mean, I've never taken any of her classes before."

"Oh," Ginny said. "What about the other teachers?"

"Hmm," Persephone said, thinking hard. "Well, there's Bezborodov. He teaches Charms. Pretty straightforward. He's not boring or anything, but you shouldn't expect a lot of really fascinating lessons. Let's see. Dolgopolova teaches Potions. She's _hard_. Well, she's a good teacher, but it's a really hard subject. Especially if you're taking Advanced Potions, like us."

"Good to know," Ginny said, hoping she would remember everything Persephone was telling her to expect.

"Did you say you were taking Divination this term?" Persephone asked her. "I don't remember."

"Oh, no," Ginny asked. "Why? Should I be?"

"Oh, no," Persephone said. "My father teaches it. I'm not taking it either."

Ginny decided they weren't close enough friends yet, for her to "go there."

"You're taking History, though, right?" Persephone said quickly. 

"Yes," Ginny answered.

"Well that's taught by our Head, Kasparkova. She's harsh sometimes if you don't understand things right away. But she really _wants_ you to do well. And of course you'll have it much easier since she tends to favour those from our house. She's also the elective Music teacher, so she's a bit eccentric. Hard to understand sometimes. But you'll be around her more often through House activities, so you'll get to know her better."

"Well that's good," Ginny said.

"Herbology?"

"Yep."

"Okay, Herbology is with Moretti," Persephone told her. "If you can keep up with his Italian accent, and focus on the lesson instead of the way his dark hair sticks to his forehead in the hot greenhouse… Or his deep eyes and how they… and his broad shoulders, and his…"

Persephone trailed off.

Ginny cleared her throat.

"Hmm?" Persephone started. "Oh, yeah. His class won't be a problem. I've always pulled good marks in it, at least."

Ginny smirked at her new friend.

"Okay. So!" Persephone began again. "Transfiguration. Milea is a stickler for technique and attendance. As long as you always go to class and avoid getting called on as often as possible, you should be fine."

"Sounds good," Ginny said, making a mental note to do just that.

"Oh! And all classes are double periods, so if you ever dislike a teacher, be assured that the time can pass _very_ slowly."

"Duly noted," Ginny said smiling, thinking of lessons at Hogwarts with Professor Binns.

"Now you're taking Spellbinding _and_ Defense," Persephone said with a touch of awe. "I still can't believe you're taking both."

Ginny just shrugged.

"Well Nycroft teaches Defense," Persephone started to say.

"Oh, I've met him," Ginny said. "He seems really nice."

Persephone plaintively tilted her head to the side.

"Yes, he _is_ rather nice, isn't he?" she said, as though that thought had never occurred to her before. "Yes. But he's also tricky. Even when he's being nice, you can sometimes be stumped by him. Don't ever let him trick you in class. He's a wily one."

Ginny looked a bit taken aback. He'd seemed so perfectly jolly when he'd accompanied her to her dorm earlier that day. Anyone who liked Quidditch as much as he seemed to would do alright in her book. But she still made a note to be careful under his watch.

"Now for Spellbinding," Persephone said. "I'm only taking Defense this year, so I won't be able help you with anything that happens in that class. And as for the teacher, Magister Stopps, he's brand new this year, so I don't know anything about his methods or curriculum. The old teacher, Magister Pannaman, retired last year."

"Pannaman?" Ginny asked, surprised.

"Yeah," Persephone said. "You may have seen him around town, too. He works part time in the train station, now. I don't see why, though. If it was me retiring, I wouldn't go straight into working another job. Maybe he wanted to keep working, but just didn't want to be around kids anymore. If that were the case, I can't say I blame him."

Ginny wondered why Solomon Crowbeam hadn't told her that before. Maybe it was one of the reasons he'd picked Ezekiel to be her guardian here. He's had experience with the school. Ginny knew there must be some connection.

"Oh and students in sixth and seventh year will be concentrating on using non-verbal spells in as many subjects as possible. So you'll want to be ready for that, too," Persephone yawned while Sarah and Zora entered the room, each going directly for their own beds.

"Well I'm going to sleep, then," Persephone said, stifling another yawn. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Alright," said Ginny. "Maybe we can go down to breakfast together tomorrow?"

"Sure," Persephone replied, going to her wardrobe to get out her pyjamas.

"Great," Ginny said, going over to her wardrobe to do the same.

Allegra came into the room just as Ginny was settling herself down under the covers.

"Have a nice night," she said shyly, and then went about her nightly routine.

"Thanks. You, too," Ginny said. She decided that Allegra might be quite a pleasant girl, if she would just open up a bit.

The jet-lag of traveling into a different time zone was finally taking its hold on Ginny. She just did not seem to be tired. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get her body to realize that it was time to sleep. Though the bed was quite comfortable, she tossed and turned, trying to find the perfect position that would lull her into slumber, but sleep simply would not come.

Instead, Ginny settled for rehashing the events of the day, knowing full well that doing so would probably have a strange effect on her dreams. She thought about Ivo, and how she'd have to watch what she said around him so he wouldn't get the wrong impression; how she'd have to be the perfect student, especially in Nycroft's class: she didn't want him to ever catch her off guard. She needed to make sure that Malfoy and Nott and Viktor didn't blow her cover, whether on purpose, or by accident. But mostly, she thought about the bizarre encounter with Damon Drury after dinner. What had she done to put him on edge? Had she even done anything at all? One thing was for certain: she was going to have to watch her back…


End file.
